PUBLISHED  BY  THE 

AMERICAN  TRACT  SOCIETY, 

150  N ASS  A U-STREET,  NEW  YORK. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2017  with  funding  from 
Duke  University  Libraries 


https://archive.org/details/selecttemperance01amer 


fl- 


Umvesrsity  I^bmir 

CONTENTS. 


EFFECTS  OF  AEDENT  SPIRITS.  Bt  Dr.  Rush 8 

TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRITS.  By  Rev.  Dr.  Edwards - 32 

REWARDS  OF  DRUNKENNESS 4 

THE  WELL-CONDUCTED  FARM 12 

KITTREDGE’S  ADDRESS  ON  EFFECTS  OF  ARDENT  SPIRITS- ■ 24 

•1  DICKINSON'S  APPEAL  TO  YOUTH - 8 

ALARM  TO  DISTILLERS  AND  THEIR  ALLIES 8 

, PUTNAM  AND  THE  WOLF ----24 

HITCHCOCK  ON  THE  MANUFACTURE  OF  ARDENT  SPIRITS---  28 

[ MTLVAINE'S  ADDRESS  TO  YOUNG  MEN 24 

WHO  SLEW  ALL  THESE  ? - - - - 4 

SEWALL  ON  INTEMPERANCE at 

BIBLE  ARGUMENT  FOR  TEMPERANCE--- ---- - 12 

FOUR  REASONS  AGAINST  THE  USE  OF  ALCOHOLIC  LIQ,UORS  12 

DEBATES  OF  CONSCIENCE  ON  ARDENT  SPIRITS 16 

J BARNES  ON  TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRITS 24 

THE  FOOLS’  PENCE - --- 8 

THE  POOR  MAN’S  HOUSE  REPAIRED - 12 

JAMIE  ; OR  A WORD  FROM  IRELAND  FOR  TEMPERANCE 16 

THE  WONDERFUL  ESCAPE 4 

THE  EVENTFUL  -TWELVE  HOURS - - - - 16 

THE  LOST  MECHANIC  RESTORED- .---- 4 

'■  REFORMATION  OF  DRUNKARDS 4 

TOM  STARBOARD  AND  JACK  HALYARD ----  24 

THE  OX  SERMON - 8 


305826 


THE 


EFFECTS  OF  ARDENT  SPIRITS 

* XTPOJf 

THE  HUMAN  BODY  AND  MIND. 


BY  BENJAMIN  RUSH,  M.  D. 


By  ardent  spirits,  I mean  those  liquors  only  which  are 
obtained  by  distillation  from  fermented  substances  of  any 
kind.  To  their  effects  upon  the  bodies  and  minds  of  men, 
the  following  inquiry  shall  be  exclusively  confined. 

The  effects  of  ardent  spirits  divide  themselves  into  such 
as  are  of  a prompt,  and  such  as  are  of  a chronic  nature. 
The  former  discover  themselves  in  drunkenness ; and  the 
latter  in  a numerous  train  of  diseases  and  vices  of  the  body 
and  mind. 

I.  I shall  begin  by  briefly  describing  their  prompt  or 
immediate  effects  in  a fit  of  drunkenness. 

This  odious  disease  (for  by  that  name  it  should  be 
called)  appears  with  more  or  less  of  the  following  symp- 
toms, and  most  commonly  in  the  order  in  which  I shall 
enumerate  them. 

1.  Unusual  garrulity. 

2.  Unusual  silence. 

8.  Captiousness,  and  a disposition  to  quarrel. 

4.  Uncommon  good-humor,  and  an  insipid  simpering, 
or  laugh. 

5.  Profane  swearing  and  cursing. 

6.  A disclosure  of  their  own  or  other  people’s  secrets. 

7.  A rude  disposition  to  tell  those  persons  in  company 
whom  they  know,  their  faults. 

VOL.  I. 


305826 


2 


THE  EFFECTS  OF  ARDENT  SPIRITS 


8.  Certain  immodest  actions.  I am  sorry  to  say  this 
sign  of  the  first  stage  of  drunkenness  sometimes  appears  in 
women,  who,  when  sober,  are  uniformly  remarkable  for 
chaste  and  decent  manners. 

9.  A clipping  of  words. 

10.  Fighting;  a black  eye,  or  a swelled  nose,  often 
mark  this  grade  of  drunkenness. 

1 1 . Certain  extravagant  acts  which  indicate  a temporarj'^ 
fit  of  madness.  These  are  singing,  hallooing^  roaring,  imita- 
ting the  noises  of  brute  animals,  jumping,  tearing  off  clothes, 
dancing  naked,  breaking  glasses  and  china,  and  dashing 
other  articles  of  household  furniture  upon  the  ground  or 
door.  After  a while  the  paroxysm  of  drunkenness  is  com- 
pletely formed.  The  face  now  becomes  flushed,  the  eyes 
project,  and  are  somewhat  watery,  winking  is  less  frequent 
than  is  natural ; the  under  lip  is  protruded — the  head  in- 
clines a little  to  one  shoulder — the  jaw  falls — belchings  and 
hiccough  take  place — the  limbs  totter — ^the  whole  body  stag- 
gers. The  unfortunate  subject  of  this  history  next  falls  on 
his  seat — he  looks  around  him  with  a vacant  countenance, 
and  mutters  inarticulate  sounds  to  himself — he  attempts  to 
rise  and  walk  : in  this  attempt  he  falls  upon  his  side,  from 
which  he  gradually  turns  upon  his  back  : he  now  closes  his 
eyes  and  falls  into  a profound  sleep,  frequently  attended 
with  snoring,  and  profuse  sweats,  and  sometimes  with  such 
a relaxation  of  the  muscles  which  confine  the  bladder  and 
the  lower  bowels,  as  to  produce  a symptom  which  delicacy 
forbids  me  to  mention.  In  this  condition  he  often  lies  from 
ten,  twelve,  and  twenty-four  hours,  to  two,  three,  four,  and 
five  days,  an  object  of  pity  and  disgust  to  his  family  and 
friends.  His  recovery  from  this  fit  of  intoxication  is  marked 
with  several  peculiar  appearances.  He  opens  his  eyes  and 
closes  them  again — he  gapes  and  stretches  his  limbs — he 
then  coughs  and  pukes — his  voice  is  hoarse — he  rises  with 
difficulty,  and  staggers  to  a chair — his  eyes  resemble  balls 
of  fire — his  hands  tremble — he  loathes  the  sight  of  food — he 
calls  for  a glass  of  spirits  to  compose  his  stomach — now  and 
then  he  emits  a deep-fetched  sigh,  or  groan,  from  a tran- 
sient twinge  of  conscience  ; but  he  more  frequently  scolds, 
and  curses  every  thing  around  him.  In  this  stage  of  languor 
and  stupidity  he  remains  for  two  or  three  days  before  he  is 
able  to  resume  his  former  habits  of  business  and  conversation. 


UPON  THE  HUMAN  BODY  AND  MIND. 


3 


Pythagoras,  we  are  told,  maintained  that  the  souls  of 
men  after  death  expiated  the  crimes  committed  by  them  in 
this  world  by  animating  certain  brute  animals ; and  that 
the  souls  of  those  animals,  in  their  turns,  entered  into  men, 
and  carried  with  them  all  their  peculiar  qualities  and  vices. 
This  doctrine  of  one  of  the  wisest  and  best  of  the  Greek 
philosophers,  was  probably  intended  only  to  convey  a lively 
idea  of  the  changes  which  are  induced  in  the  body  and 
mind  of  man  by  a fit  of  drunkenness.  In  folly,  it  causes 
him  to  resemble  a calf — in  stupidity,  an  ass — in  roaring,  a 
mad  bull — in  quan’elling  and  fighting,  a dog — in  cruelty,  a 
tiger — in  fetor,  a skunk — in  filthiness,  a hog — and  in  ob- 
scenity, a he-goat. 

It  belongs  to  the  history  of  drunkenness  to  remark,  that 
its  paroxysms  occur,  like  the  paroxysms  of  many  diseases, 
at  certain  periods,  and  after  longer  or  shorter  intervals. 
They  often  begin  with  annual,  and  gradually  increase  in 
their  frequency,  until  they  appear  in  quarterly,  monthly, 
weekly,  and  quotidian,  or  daily  periods.  Finally,  they 
afford  scarcely  any  marks  of  remission  either  during  the 
day  or  the  night.  There  was  a citizen  of  Philadelphia, 
many  years  ago,  in  whom  drunkenness  appeared  in  this 
protracted  form.  In  speaking  of  him  to  one  of  his  neigh- 
bors, I said,  “ Does  he  not  sometimes  get  drunk  ?”  “ You 

mean,”  said  his  neighbor,  “ is  he  not  sometimes  sober  ?” 

It  is  further  remarkable,  that  drunkenness  resembles 
certain  hereditary,  family,  and  contagious  diseases.  I have 
once  known  it  to  descend  from  a father  to  four  out  of  five 
of  his  children.  I have  seen  three,  and  once  four  brothers, 
who  were  born  of  sober  ancestors,  affected  by  it ; and  I 
have  heard  of  its  spreading  through  a whole  family  com- 
posed of  members  not  originally  related  to  each  other. 
These  facts  are  impoi’tant,  and  should  not  be  overlooked  by 
parents,  in  deciding  upon  the  matrimonial  connections  of 
their  children. 

II.  Let  us  next  attend  to  the  chronic  effects  of  ardent 
spirits  upon  the  body  and  mind.  In  the  body  they  dispose 
to  every  form  of  acute  disease  ; they  moreover  excite  fevers 
in  persons  predisposed  to  them  from  other  causes.  This 
has  been  remarked  in  all  the  yellow-fevers  which  have 
visited  the  cities  of  the  United  States.  Hard-drinkers  sel- 
dom escape,  and  rarely  recover  from  them.  The  following 


4 


THE  EFFECTS  OF  ARDENT  SPIRITS 


diseases  are  the  usual  consequences  of  the  habitual  use  of 
ardent  spirits  : 

1.  A decay  of  appetite,  sickness  at  stomach,  and  a 
puking  of  bile,  or  a discharge  of  a frothy  and  viscid  phlegm, 
by  hawking,  in  the  morning. 

2.  Obstructions  of  the  liver.  The  fable  of  Prometheus, 
on  whose  liver  a vulture  was  said  to  prey  constantly,  as  a 
punishment  for  his  stealing  fire  from  heaven,  was  intended 
to  illustrate  the  painful  effects  of  ardent  spirits  upon  that 
organ  of  the  body. 

3.  Jaundice,  and  dropsy  of  the  belly  and  limbs,  and 
finally  of  every  cavity  in  the  body.  A swelling  in  the  feet 
and  legs  is  so  characteristic  a mark  of  habits  of  intemper- 
ance, that  the  merchants  in  Charleston,  I have  been  told, 
cease  to  trust  the  planters  of  South  Carolina  as  soon  as  they 
perceive  it.  They  very  naturally  conclude  industry  and 
virtue  to  be  extinct  in  that  man,  in  whom  that  symptom  of 
disease  has  been  produced  by  the  intemperate  use  of  dis- 
tilled spirits. 

4.  Hoarseness,  and  a husky  cough,  which  often  termi- 
nate in  consumption,  and  sometimes  in  an  acute  and  fatal 
disease  of  the  lungs. 

5.  Diabetes,  that  is,  a frequent  and  weakening  discharge 
of  pale  or  sweetish  urine. 

6.  Redness,  and  eruptions  on  different  parts  of  the  body. 
They  generally  begin  on  the  nose,  and  after  gradually 
extending  all  over  the  face,  sometimes  descend  to  the  limbs 
in  the  form  of  leprosy.  They  have  been  called  “ Rum- 
buds,”  when  they  appear  in  the  face.  In  persons  who  have 
occasionally  survived  these  effects  of  ardent  spirits  on  the 
skin,  the  face  after  a while  becomes  bloated,  and  its  redness 
is  succeeded  by  a death-like  paleness.  Thus,  the  same 
fire  which  produces  a red  color  in  iron,  when  urged  to  a 
more  intense  degree,  produces  what  has  been  called  a white- 
heat. 

7 . A fetid  breath,  composed  of  every  thing  that  is  offen- 
sive in  putrid  animal  matter. 

8.  Frequent  and  disgusting  belchings.  Dr.  Haller  re- 
lates the  case  of  a notorious  drunkard  having  been  suddenly 
destroyed,  in  consequence  of  the  vapor  discharged  from  his 
stomach  by  belching,  accidentally  taking  fire  by  coming  in 
contact  with  the  flame  of  a candle. 


UPON  THE  HUMAN  BODY  AND  MIND. 


5 


9.  Epilepsy. 

10.  Gout,  in  all  its  various  forms  of  swelled  limbs,  colic, 
palsy,  and  apoplexy. 

11.  Lastly,  madness.  The  late  Dr.  Waters,  while  he 
acted  as  house-pupil  and  apothecary  of  the  Pennsylvania 
Hospital,  assured  me  that,  in  one-third  of  the  patients  con- 
fined by  this  terrible  disease,  it  had  been  induced  by  ardent 
spirits. 

Most  of  the  diseases  which  have  been  enumerated  are 
of  a mortal  nature.  They  are  more  certainly  induced,  and 
terminate  more  speedily  in  death,  when  spirits  are  taken  in 
such  quantities,  and  at  such  times,  as  to  produce  frequent 
intoxication ; but  it  may  serve  to  remove  an  error  with 
which  some  intemperate  people  console  themselves,  to  re- 
mark, that  ardent  spirits  often  bring  on  fatal  diseases  without 
producing  drunkenness.  I have  known  many  persons 
destroyed  by  them  who  were  never  completely  intoxicated 
during  the  whole  course  of  their  lives.  The  solitary  in- 
stances of  longevity  which  are  now  and  then  met  with  in 
hard-drinkers,  no  more  disprove  the  deadly  effects  of 
ardent  spirits,  than  the  solitary  instances  of  recoveries 
from  apparent  death  by  drowning,  prove  that  there  is  no 
danger  to  life  from  a human  body  lying  an  hour  or  two 
under  water. 

The  body,  after  its  death  from  the  use  of  distilled  spirits, 
exhibits,  by  dissection,  certain  appearances  which  are  of  a 
peculiar  nature.  The  fibres  of  the  stomach  and  bowels  are 
contracted — abscesses,  gangrene,  and  schirri  are  found  in 
ihe  viscera.  The  bronchial  vessels  are  contracted — tlie 
blood-vessels  and  tendons  in  many  parts  of  the  body  are 
more  or  less  ossified,  and  even  the  hair  of  the  head  possesses 
a crispness  which  renders  it  less  valuable  to  wig-makers 
than  the  hair  of  sober  people. 

Not  less  destructive  are  the  effects  of  ardent  spirits  upon 
the  human  mind.  They  impair  the  memory,  debilitate  the 
understanding,  and  pervert  the  moral  faculties.  It  was 
probably  from  observing  these  effects  of  intemperance  in 
drinking  upon  the  mind,  that  a law  was  formerly  passed  in 
Spain  which  excluded  drunkards  from  being  witnesses  in  a 
court  of  justice.  But  the  demoralizing  effects  of  distilled 
spirits  do  not  stop  here.  They  produce  not  only  falsehood, 
but  fraud,  theft,  uncleanliness,  and  murder.  Like  the 
1* 


0 


THE  EFFECTS  OF  ARDENT  SPIRITS 


demoniac  mentioned  in  the  New  Testament,  their  name  is 
“ Legion,”  for  they  convey  into  the  soul  a host  of  vices  and 
crimes. 

A more  affecting  spectacle  cannot  he  exhibited  than  a 
person  into  whom  this  infernal  spirit,  generated  by  habits 
of  intemperance,  has  entered : it  is  more  or  less  affecting, 
according  to  the  station  the  person  fills  in  a family,  or  in 
society,  who  is  possessed  by  it.  Is  he  a husband  ? How 
deep  the  anguish  which  rends  the  bosom  of  his  wife  ? Is 
she  a wife  ? Who  can  measure  the  shame  and  aversion 
which  she  excites  in  her  husband  ? Is  he  the  father,  or  is 
she  the  mother  of  a family  of  children  ? See  their  averted 
looks  from  their  parent,  and  their  blushing  looks  at  each 
other  ! Is  he  a magistrate  ? or  has  he  been  chosen  to  fill  a 
high  and  respectable  station  in  the  councils  of  his  country  } 
What  humiliating  fears  of  corruption  in  the  administration 
of  the  laws,  and  of  the  subversion  of  public  order  and 
happiness,  appear  in  the  countenances  of  all  who  see  him ! 
Is  he  a minister  of  the  Gospel  ? Here  language  fails  me. 
If  angels  weep — it  is  at  such  a sight. 

In  pointing  out  the  evils  produced  by  ardent  spirits,  let 
us  not  pass  by  their  effects  upon  the  estates  of  the  persons 
who  are  addicted  to  them.  Are  they  inhabitants  of  cities  ? 
Behold  their  houses  stripped  gradually  of  their  furniture, 
and  pawned,  or  sold  by  a constable,  to  pay  tavern  debts. 
See  their  names  upon  record  in  the  dockets  of  every  court, 
and  whole  pages  of  newspaper's  filled  with  advertisements 
of  their  estates  for  public  sale.  Are  they  inhabitants  of 
country  places?  Behold  their  houses  with  shattered  win- 
dows— their  barns  with  leaky  roofs — their  gardens  overrun 
with  weeds — their  fields  with  broken  fences — their  hogs 
without  yokes — their  sheep  without  wool — their  cattle  and 
horses  without  fat — and  their  children,  filthy  and  half-clad, 
without  manners,  principles,  and  morals.  This  picture  of 
agricultural  wretchedness  is  seldom  of  long  duration.  The 
farms  and  property  thus  neglected  and  depreciated  are 
seized  and  sold  for  the  benefit  of  a group  of  creditors.  The 
children  that  were  born  w'ith  the  prospect  of  inheriting  them 
are  bound  out  to  service  in  the  neighborhood  ; while  their 
parents,  the  unworthy  authors  of  their  misfortunes,  ramble 
into  new  and  distant  settlements,  alternately  fed  on  their 
way  by  the  hand  of  charity,  or  a little  casual  labor. 


UPON  THE  HUMAN  BODY  AND  MIND. 


7 


Thus  we  see  poverty  and  misery,  crimes  and  infamy, 
diseases  and  death,  are  all  the  natural  and  usual  conse- 
quences of  the  intemperate  use  of  ardent  spirits. 

I have  classed  death  among  the  consequences  of  hard 
drinking.  But  it  is  not  death  from  the  immediate  hand  of 
the  Deity,  nor  from  any  of  the  instruments  of  it  which  were 
created  by  him:  it  is  death  from  suicide.  Yes — thou  poor 
degraded  creature  who  art  daily  lifting  the  poisoned  bowl 
to  thy  lips — cease  to  avoid  the  unhallowed  ground  in  which 
the  self-murderer  is  interred,  and  wonder  no  longer  that  the 
sun  should  shine,  and  the  rain  fall,  and  the  grass  look  green 
upon  his  grave.  Thou  art  perpetrating,  gradually,  by  the 
use  of  ardent  spirits,  what  he  has  effected  suddenly  by 
opium  or  a halter.  Considering  how  many  circumstances 
from  surprise,  or  derangement,  may  palliate  his  guilt,  or 
that  (unlike  yours)  it  was  not  preceded  and  accompanied  by 
any  other  crime,  it  is  probable  his  condemnation  will  be  less 
than  yours  at  the  day  of  judgment. 

I shall  now  take  notice  of  the  occasions  and  circum- 
stances which  are  supposed  to  render  the  use  of  ardent 
spirits  necessary,  and  endeavor  to  show  that  the  arguments 
in  favor  of  their  use  in  such  cases  are  founded  in  error, 
and  that  in  each  of  them  ardent  spirits,  instead  of  affording 
strength  to  the  body,  increase  the  evils  they  are  intended  to 
relieve. 

1.  They  are  said  to  be  necessary  in  very  cold  weather. 
This  is  far  from  being  true,  for  the  temporary  warmth  they 
produce  is  always  succeeded  by  a greater  disposition  in  the 
body  to  be  affected  by  cold.  Warm  dresses,  a plentiful 
meal  just  before  exposure  to  the  cold,  and  eating  occasion- 
ally a little  gingerbread,  or  any  other  cordial  food,  is  a much 
more  durable  method  of  preserving  the  heat  of  the  body  in 
cold  weather. 

2.  They  are  said  to  be  necessary  in  very  warm  weather. 
Experience  proves  that  they  increase,  instead  of  lessening 
the  effects  of  heat  upon  the  body,  and  thereby  dispose  to 
diseases  of  all  kinds.  Even  in  the  warm  climate  of  the 
West  Indies,  Dr.  Bell  asserts  this  to  be  true.  “Rum,” 
says  this  author,  “ whether  used  habitually,  moderately,  or 
in  excessive  quantities,  in  the  West  Indies,  always  dimin- 
ishes the  strength  of  the  body,  and  renders  men  more 
susceptible  of  disease,  and  unfit  for  any  service  in  which 


8 THE  EFFECTS  OF  ARDENT  SPIRITS,  ETC. 

vigor  or  activity  is  required.'’*  As  well  might  we  throw 
oil  into  a house,  the  roof  of  which  was  on  fire,  in  order  to 
prevent  the  flames  from  extending  to  its  inside,  as  pour 
ardent  spirits  into  the  stomach  to  lessen  the  effects  of  a hot 
sun  upon  the  skin. 

3.  Nor  do  ardent  spirits  lessen  the  effects  of  hard  labor 
upon  the  body.  Look  at  the  horse,  with  every  muscle  of 
his  body  swelled  from  morning  till  night  in  the  plough,  or  a 
team  ; does  he  make  signs  for  a draught  of  toddy,  or  a glass 
of  spirits,  to  enable  him  to  cleave  the  ground,  or  to  climb  a 
hill  ? No — he  requires  nothing  but  cool  water  and  substan- 
tial food.  There  is  no  nourishment  in  ardent  spirits.  The 
strength  they  produce  in  labor  is  of  a transient  nature,  and 
is  always  followed  by  a sense  of  weakness  and  fatigue. 

* See  his  “ Inquiry  into  the  causes  which  produce,  and  the  means 
of  preventing  diseases  among  British  officers,  soldiers,  and  others,  in 
the  West  Indies.” 


DANGER  FROM  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 

Every  man  is  in  danger  of  becoming  a drunkard  who  is 
in  the  habit  of  drinking  ardent  spirits — 1.  When  he  is  warm. 
2.  When  he  is  cold.  3.  When  he  is  wet.  4.  When  he  is 
dry.  5.  When  he  is  dull.  6.  When  he  is  lively.  7.  When 
he  travels.  8.  When  he  is  at  home.  9.  When  he  is  in 
company.  10.  When  he  is  alone.  11.  When  he  is  at 
work.  12.  When  he  is  idle.  13.  Before  meals.  14.  After 
meals.  15.  When  he  gets  up.  16.  When  he  goes  to  bed. 
17.  On  holidays.  18.  On  public  occasions.  19.  On  any 
day  ; or  20.  On  any  occasion. 


PUBLISHED  BY  THE  AMERICAN  TRACT  SOCIETY. 


ON  THE 


TEAFFIC  IN  AEDENT  SPIEIT. 


Ardent  spirit  is  composed  of  alcohol  and  water,  in 
nearly  equal  proportions.  Alcohol  is  composed  of  hydro- 
gen, carbon,  and  oxygen,  in  the  proportion  of  about  fourteen, 
fifty-two,  and  thirty-four  parts  to  the  hundred.  It  is,  in  its 
nature,  as  manifested  by  its  effects,  a poison.  When  taken 
in  any  quantity  it  disturbs  healthy  action  in  the  human  sys- 
tem, and  in  large  doses  suddenly  destroys  life.  It  resembles 
opium  in  its  nature,  and  arsenic  in  its  effects.  And  though 
when  mixed  with  water,  as  in  ardent  spirit,  its  evils  are 
somewhat  modified,  they  are  by  no  means  prevented.  Ar- 
dent spirit  is  an  enemy  to  the  human  constitution,  and  cannot 
be  used  as  a drink  without  injury.  Its  ultimate  tendency 
invariably  is,  to  produce  weakness,  not  strength ; sickness, 
not  health  ; death,  not  life. 

Consequently,  to  use  it  is  an  immorality.  It  is  a viola- 
tion of  the  will  of  God,  and  a sin  in  magnitude  equal  to  all 
the  evils,  temporal  and  eternal,  which  flow  from  it.  Nor 
can  the  furnishing  of  ardent  spirit  for  the  use  of  others  be 
accounted  a less  sin,  inasmuch  as  this  tends  to  produce  evils 
greater  than  for  an  individual  merely  to  drink  it.  And  if  a 
man  knows,  or  has  the  opportunity  of  knowing,  the  nature 
and  effects  of  the  traffic  in  this  article,  and  yet  continues  tc 

VOL.  IV. 


2 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRIT. 


be  engage^ in  it,  he  may  justly  be  regarded  as  an  immoral 
man  ; and  for  the  following  reasons,  viz. 

Ardent  spirit,  as  a drink,  is  not  needful.  All  men  lived 
Avithout  it,  and  all  the  business  of  the  world  ivas  conducted 
without  it,  for  thousands  of  years.  It  is  not  three  hundred 
years  since  it  began  to  be  generally  used  as  a drink  in  Great 
Britain,  nor  one  hundred  years  since  it  became  common  in 
America.  Of  course  it  is  not  needful. 

It  is  not  useful.  Those  who  do  not  use  it  are,  other 
things  being  equal,  in  all  respects  better  than  those  who  do. 
Nor  does  the  fact  that  persons  have  used  it  with  more  or  less 
frequency,  in  a greater  or  smaller  quantity,  for  a longer  or 
shorter  time,  render  it  either  needful,  or  useful,  or  harmless, 
or  right  for  them  to  continue  to  use  it.  More  than  a million 
of  persons  in  this  country,  and  multitudes  in  other  countries, 
who  once  did  use  it,  and  thought  it  needful,  have,  within 
five  years,  ceased  to  use  it,  and  they  have  found  that  they 
are  in  all  respects  better  wiiliout  it.  And  this  number  is  so 
great,  of  all  ages,  and  conditions,  and  employments,  as  to 
render  it  certain,  should  the  experiment  be  fairly  made,  that 
this  would  be  the  case  with  all.  Of  course,  ardent  spirit, 
as  a drink,  is  not  useful. 

It  is  hurtful.  Its  whole  influence  is  injurious  to  the 
body  and  the  mind  for  this  world  and  the  world  to  come. 

1.  It  forms  an  unnecessary,  artificial,  and  very  danger- 
ous appetite ; which,  by  gratification,  like  the  desire  for 
sinning,  in  the  man  who  sins,  tends  continually  to  increase. 
No  man  can  form  this  appetite  without  increasing  his  danger 
of  dying  a drunkard,  and  exerting  an  influence  which  tends 
to  perpetuate  drunkenness,  and  all  its  abominations,  to  the 
end  of  the  world.  Its  very  formation,  therefore,  is  a viola- 
tion of  the  will  of  God.  It  is,  in  its  nature,  an  immorality, 
and  springs  from  an  inordinate  desire  of  a kind  or  degree 
of  bodily  enjoyment — animal  gratification,  Avhich  God  has 
shown  to  be  inconsistent  with  his  glory,  and  the  highest 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRIT, 


3 


good  of  man.  It  shows  that  the  person  who  forms  it  is  not 
satisfied  with  the  proper  gratification  of  those  appetites  and 
passions  which  God  has  given  him,  or  with  that  kind  and 
degree  of  bodily  enjoyment  which  infinite  wisdom  and  good- 
ness have  prescribed  as  the  utmost  that  can  be  possessed 
consistently  with  a person’s  highest  happiness  and  usefulness, 
the  glory  of  his  Maker,  and  the  good  of  the  universe.  That 
person  covets  more  animal  enjoyment ; to  obtain  it  he  forms 
a new  appetite,  and  in  doing  this  he  rebels  against  God. 

That  desire  for  increased  animal  enjoyment  from  which 
rebellion  springs  is  sin,  and  all  the  evils  which  follow  in  its 
train  are  only  so  many  voices  by  which  Jehovah  declares 
“ the  way  of  transgressors  is  hard.”  The  person  who  has 
formed  an  appetite  for  ardent  spirit,  and  feels  uneasy  if  he 
does  not  gratify  it,  has  violated  the  divine  arrangement, 
disregarded  the  divine  will,  and  if  he  understands  the  na- 
ture of  what  he  has  done,  and  approves  of  it,  and  continues 
in  it,  it  will  ruin  him.  He  will  show  that  there  is  one  thing 
in  which  he  will  not  have  God  to  reign  over  him.  And 
should  he  keep  the  whole  law,  and  yet  continue  knowingly, 
habitually,  wilfully,  and  perseveringly  to  offend  in  that  one 
point,  he  will  perish.  Then,  and  then  only,  according  to 
the  Bible,  can  any  man  be  saved,  when  he  has  respect  to  all 
the  known  will  of  God,  and  is  disposed  to  be  governed  by  it. 
He  must  carry  out  into  practice,  with  regard  to  the  body 
and  the  soul,  “ Not  my  will,  but  thine  be  done.”  His  grand 
object  must  be,  to  know  the  will  of  God,  and  when  he  knows 
it,  to  be  governed  by  it,  and  with  regard  to  all  things.  This, 
the  man  who  is  not  contented  with  that  portion  of  animal  en- 
joyment which  the  proper  gratification  of  the  appetites  and 
passions  which  God  has  given  him  will  afford,  but  forms  an 
appetite  for  ardent  spirit,  or  continues  to  gratify  it  after  it  is 
formed,  does  not  do.  In  this  respect,  if  he  understands  the 
nature  and  effects  of  his  actions,  he  prefers  his  own  will  to 
the  known  will  of  God,  and  is  ripening  to  hear,  from  the  lips 


4 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRIT. 


of  his  Judge,  “ Those  mine  enemies,  that  would  not  that  I 
should  reign  over  them,  bring  them  hither  and  slay  them 
before  me.”  And  the  men  who  traffic  in  this  article,  or 
furnish  it  as  a drink  for  others,  are  tempting  them  to  sin, 
and  thus  uniting  their  influence  with  that  of  the  devil  for 
ever  to  ruin  them.  This  is  an  aggravated  immorality,  and 
the  men  who  continue  to  do  it  are  immoral  men. 

2.  The  use  of  ardent  spirit,  to  which  the  traffic  is  ac- 
cessory, causes  a great  and  wicked  waste  of  property.  All 
that  the  users  pay  for  this  article  is  to  them  lost,  and  worse 
than  lost.  Should  the  whole  which  they  use  sink  into  the 
earth,  or  mingle  with  the  ocean,  it  would  be  better  for  them, 
and  better  for  the  community,  than  for  them  to  drink  it. 
All  which  it  takes  to  support  the  paupers,  and  prosecute  the 
crimes  which  ardent  spirit  occasions,  is,  to  those  who  pay 
the  money,  utterly  lost.  All  the  diminution  of  profitable 
labor  which  it  occasions,  through  improvidence,  idleness, 
dissipation,  intemperance,  sickness,  insanity,  and  premature 
deaths,  is  to  the  community  so  much  utterly  lost.  And  these 
items,  as  has  often  been  shown,  amount  in  the  United  States 
to  more  than  $100,000,000  a year.  To  this  enormous  and 
wicked  waste  of  property,  those  who  traffic  in  the  article  are 
knowingly  accessory. 

A portion  of  what  is  thus  lost  by  others,  they  obtain 
themselves  ; but  without  rendering  to  others  any  valuable 
equivalent.  This  renders  their  business  palpably  unjust; 
as  really  so  as  if  they  should  obtain  that  money  by  gambling ; 
and  it  is  as  really  immoral.  It  is  also  unjust  in  another 
respect : it  burdens  the  community  with  taxes  both  for  the 
support  of  pauperism,  and  for  the  prosecution  of  crimes,  and 
without  rendering  to  that  community  any  adequate  com- 
pensation. These  taxes,  as  shown  by  facts,  are  four  times 
as  great  as  they  would  be  if  there  were  no  sellers  of  ardent 
spirit.  All  the  profits,  with  the  exception  perhaps  of  a mere 
pittance  which  he  pays  for  license,  the  seller  puts  into  his 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRIT. 


own  pocket,  while  the  burdens  are  thrown  upon  the  commu- 
nity. This  is  palpably  unjust,  and  utterly  immoral.  Of 
1,969  paupers  in  different  almshouses  in  the  United  States, 
1,790,  according  to  the  testimony  of  the  overseers  of  the  poor, 
were  made  such  by  spirituous  liquor.  And  of  1,764  criminals 
in  different  prisons,  more  than  1,300  were  either  intemperate 
men,  or  were  under  the  power  of  intoxicating  liquor  when 
the  crimes  for  which  they  were  imprisoned  were  committed. 
And  of  44  murders,  according  to  the  testimony  of  those  who 
prosecuted  or  conducted  the  defence  of  the  murderers,  or 
witnessed  their  trials,  43  wei'e  committed  by  intemperate 
men,  or  upon  intemperate  men,  or  those  who  at  the  time  of 
the  murder  were  under  the  power  of  strong  drink. 

The  Hon.  Felix  Grundy,  United  States  senator  from 
Tennessee,  after  thirty  years’  extensive  practice  as  a lawyer, 
gives  it  as  his  opinion  that  four-fifths  of  all  the  crimes  com- 
mitted in  the  United  States  can  be  traced  to  intemperance. 
A similar  proportion  is  stated,  from  the  highest  authority,  to 
result  from  the  same  cause  in  Great  Britain.  And  when  it 
is  considered  that  more  than  200  murders  are  committed, 
and  more  than  100,000  crimes  are  prosecuted  in  the  United 
States  in  a year,  and  that  such  a vast  proportion  of  them  are 
occasioned  by  ardent  spirit,  can  a doubt  remain  on  the  mind 
of  any  sober  man,  that  the  men  who  know  these  facts,  and 
yet  continue  to  traffic  in  this  article,  are  among  the  chief 
causes  of  crime,  and  ought  to  be  viewed  and  treated  as  im- 
moral men  ? It  is  as  really  immoral  for  a man,  by  doing 
wrong,  to  excite  others  to  commit  crimes,  as  to  commit  them 
himself;  and  as  really  unjust  wrongfully  to  take  another’s 
property  with  his  consent,  as  without  it.  And  though  it 
might  not  be  desirable  to  have  such  a law,  yet  no  law  in 
the  statute-book  is  more  righteous  than  one  which  should 
require  that  those  who  make  paupers  should  support  them, 
and  those  who  excite  others  to  commit  crimes,  should  pay 
the  cost  of  their  prosecution,  and  should,  with  those  who 
VOL. IV. 


6 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRIT. 


commit  them,  bear  all  the  evils.  And  so  long  as  this  is  not 
the  case  they  will  be  guilty,  according  to  the  divine  law,  of 
defrauding,  as  well  as  tempting  and  corrupting  their  fellow- 
men.  And  though  such  crimes  cannot  be  prosecuted,  and 
justice  be  awarded  in  human  courts,  their  perpetrators  will 
be  held  to  answer,  and  will  meet  with  full  and  awful  retri- 
bution at  the  divine  tribunal.  And  when  judgment  is  laid' 
to  the  line,  and  righteousness  to  the  plummet,  they -will 
appear  as  they  really  are,  criminals,  and  will  be  viewed 
and  treated  as  such  for  ever. 

There  is  another  view  in  which  the  traffic  in  ardent 
spirit  is  manifestly  highly  immoral.  It  exposes  the  chil- 
dren of  those  who  use  it,  in  an  eminent  degree,  to  dissipation 
and  crime.  Of  690  children  prosecuted  and  imprisoned  for 
crimes,  more  than  400  were  from  intemperate  families. 
Thus  the  venders  of  this  liquor  exert  an  influence  which 
tends  strongly  to  ruin  not  only  those  who  use  it,  but  their 
children ; to  render  them  far  more  liable  to  idleness,  profli- 
gacy, and  ruin,  than  the  children  of  those  who  do  not  use  it; 
and  through  them  to  extend  these  evils  to  others,  and  to  per- 
petuate them  to  future  generations.  This  is  a sin  of  which 
all  who  traffic  in  ardent  spirit  are  guilty.  Often  the  deepest 
pang  which  a dying  parent  feels  for  his  children,  is  lest, 
through  the  instrumentality  of  such  men,  they  should  be 
ruined.  And  is  it  not  horrible  wickedness  for  them,  by 
exposing  for  sale  one  of  the  chief  causes  of  this  ruin,  to 
tempt  them  in  the  way  to  death?  If  he  who  takes  money 
from  others  without  an  equivalent,  or  wickedly  destroys 
property,  is  an  immoral  man,  what  is  he  who  destroys  char- 
acter, who  corrupts  children  and  youth,  and  exerts  an  influ- 
ence to  extend  and  perpetuate  immorality  and  crime  through 
future  generations  ? This  every  vender  of  ardent  spirit 
does ; and  if  he  continues  in  this  business  with  a knowledge 
of  the  subject,  it  marks  him  as  an  habitual  and  persevering 
violator  of  the  will  of  God. 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRIT. 


7 


3.  Ardent  spirit  impairs,  and  often  destroys  reason.  Of 
781  maniacs  in  different  insane  hospitals,  392,  according  to 
the  testimony  of  their  own  friends,  were  rendered  maniacs 
by  strong  drink.  And  the  physicians  who  had  the  care  of 
them  gave  it  as  their  opinion,  that  this  was  the  case  with 
many  of  the  others.  Those  who  have  had  extensive  expe- 
rience, and  the  best  opportunities  for  observation  with  regard 
to  this  malady,  have  stated,  that  probably  from  one-half  to 
three-fourths  of  the  cases  of  insanity,  in  many  places,  are 
occasioned  in  the  same  way.  Ardent  spirit  is  a poison  so 
diffusive  and  subtile  that  it  is  found,  by  actual  experiment,  to 
penetrate  even  the  brain. 

Dr.  Kirk,  of  Scotland,  dissected  a man  a few  hours  after 
death  who  died  in  a fit  of  intoxication  ; and  from  the  lateral 
ventricles  of  the  brain  he  took  a fluid  distinctly  visible  to  tlie 
smell  as  whiskey ; and  when  he  applied  a candle  to  it  in  a 
spoon,  it  took  fire  and  burnt  blue  ; “ the  lambent  blue  flame,” 
he  says,  “ characteristic  of  the  poison,  playing  on  the  surface 
of  the  spoon  for  some  seconds.” 

It  produces  also,  in  the  children  of  those  who  use  it  freely, 
a predisposition  to  intemperance,  insanity,  and  various  dis- 
eases of  both  body  and  mind,  which,  if  the  cause  is  contin- 
ued, becomes  hereditary,  and  is  transmitted  from  generation 
to  generation ; occasioning  a diminution  of  size,  strength, 
and  energy,  a feebleness  of  vision,  a feebleness  and  imbe- 
cility of  purpose,  an  obtuseness  of  intellect,  a depravation  of 
moral  taste,  a premature  old  age,  and  a general  deteriora- 
tion of  the  whole  character.  This  is  the  case  in  every  coun- 
try, and  in  every  age. 

Instances  are  known  where  the  first  children  of  a family, 
who  were  born  when  their  parents  were  temperate,  have 
been  healthy,  intelligent,  and  active  ; while  the  last  children, 
who  were  born  after  the  parents  had  become  intemperate, 
were  dwarfish  and  idiotic.  A medical  gentleman  writes, 
“ I have  no  doubt  that  a disposition  to  nervous  diseases  of  a 


8 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDFNT  SPIRIT. 


peculiar  character  is  transmitted  by  drunken  parents.”  An- 
other gentleman  states  that,  in  two  families  within  his  know- 
ledge, the  different  stages  of  intemperance  in  the  parents 
seemed  to  be  marked  by  a corresponding  deterioration  in  the 
bodies  and  minds  of  the  children.  In  one  case,  the  eldest 
of  the  family  is  respectable,  industrious,  and  accumulates 
property ; the  next  is  inferior,  disposed  to  be  industrious,  but 
spends  all  he  can  earn  in  strong  drink.  The  third  is  dwarf- 
ish in  body  and  mind,  and,  to  use  his  own  language,  “ a poor, 
miserable  remnant  of  a man.” 

In  another  family  of  daughters,  the  first  is  a smart,  active 
girl,  with  an  intelligent,  well-balanced  mind  ; the  others  are 
afflicted  with  different  degrees  of  mental  weakness  and  im- 
becility, and  the  youngest  is  an  idiot.  Another  medical 
gentleman  states,  that  the  first  child  of  a family,  who  was 
born  when  the  habits  of  the  mother  were  good,  was  healthy 
and  promising ; while  the  four  last  children,  who  were  bom 
after  the  mother  had  become  addicted  to  the  habit  of  using 
opium,  appeared  to  be  stupid ; and  all,  at  about  the  same 
age,  sickened  and  died  of  a disease  apparently  occasioned 
by  the  habits  of  the  mother. 

Another  gentleman  mentions  a case  more  common,  and 
more  appalling  still.  A respectable  and  influential  man 
early  in  life  adopted  the  habit  of  using  a little  ardent  spirit 
daily,  because,  as  he  thought,  it  did  him  good.  He  and  his 
six  children,  three  sons  and  three  daughters,  are  now  in  the 
drunkard’s  grave,  and  the  only  surviving  child  is  rapidly 
following  in  the  same  way,  to  the  same  dismal  end. 

The  best  authorities  attribute  one-half  the  madness, 
three-fourths  of  the  pauperism,  and  four-fifths  of  the  crimes 
and  wretchedness  in  Great  Britain  to  the  use  of  strong  drink. 

4.  Ardent  spirit  increases  the  number,  frequency,  and 
violence  of  diseases,  and  tends  to  bring  those  who  use  it  to 
a premature  grave.  In  Portsmouth,  New  Hampshire,  of 
about  7, .500  people,  twenty -one  persons  were  killed  by  it  in 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRIT. 


0 


a year.  In  Salem,  Massachusetts,  of  181  deaths,  twenty  ^ 
were  occasioned  in  the  same  way.  Of  ninety-one  adults  *■ 
who  died  in  New  Haven,  Connecticut,  in  one  year,  thirty- 
two,  according  to  the  testimony  of  the  Medical  Association, 
were  occasioned,  directly  or  indirectly,  by  strong  drink,  and 
a similar  proportion  had  been  occasioned  by  it  in  previous 
years.  In  New  Brunswick,  New  Jersey,  of  sixty-seven 
adult  deaths  in  one  year,  more  than  one-third  were  caused 
by  intoxicating  liquor.  In  Philadelphia,  of  4,292  deaths, 
700  were,  in  the  opinion  of  the  College  of  Physicians  and 
Surgeons,  caused  in  the  same  way.  The  physicians  of  An- 
napolis, Maryland,  state  that,  of  thirty-two  persons,  male  and 
female,  who  died  in  1828,  above  eighteen  years  of  age,  ten, 
or  nearly  one-third,  died  of  diseases  occasioned  by  intem- 
perance ; that  eighteen  were  males,  and  that  of  these,  nine, 
or  one-half,  died  of  intemperance.  They  also  say,  “ When 
we  recollect  that  even  the  temperate  use,  as  it  is  called,  of 
ardent  spirits,  lays  the  foundation  of  a numerous  train  of 
incurable  maladies,  we  feel  justified  in  expressing  the  belief, 
that  were  the  use  of  distilled  liquors  entirely  discontinued, 
the  number  of  deaths  among  the  male  adults  would  be  dimin- 
ished at  least  one-half.” 

Says  an  eminent  physician,  “ Since  our  people  generally 
have  given  up  the  use  of  spirit,  they  have  not  had  more  than 
half  as  much  sickness  as  they  had  before  ; and  I have  no 
doubt,  should  all  the  people  of  the  United  States  cease  to  use 
it,  that  nearly  half  the  sickness  of  the  country  would  cease.” 
Says  another,  after  forty  years’  extensive  practice,  “ Half 
the  men  every  year  who  die  of  fevers  might  recover,  had 
they  not  been  in  the  habit  of  using  ardent  spirit.  Many  a 
man,  down  for  weeks  with  a fever,  had  he  not  used  ardent 
spirit,  would  not  have  been  confined  to  his  house  a day.  He 
might  have  felt  a slight  headache,  but  a little  fasting  would 
have  removed  the  difficulty,  and  the  man  been  well.  And 
many  a man  who  was  never  intoxicated,  when  visited  with 


10 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRIT. 


a fever,  might  be  raised  up  as  well  as  not^  were  it  not  for 
that  state  of  the  system  which  daily  moderate  drinking  occa- 
sions, who  now,  in  spite  of  all  that  can  be  done,  sinks  down 
and  dies.” 

Nor  are  we  to  admit  for  a moment  the  popular  reason- 
ing, as  applicable  here,  “ that  the  abuse  of  a thing  is  no 
argument  against  its  use  for,  in  the  language  of  the  late 
Secretary  of  the  College  of  Physicians  and  Surgeons  of 
Philadelphia,  Samuel  Emlen,  M.  D.,  “All  use  of  ardent 
spirits,”  i.  e.  as  a drink,  “ is  an  abuse.  They  are  mischicA’- 
ous  under  all  circumstances.”  Their  tendency,  says  Dr. 
Frank,  when  used  even  moderately,  is  to  induce  disease, 
premature  old  age,  and  death.  And  Dr.  Trotter  states, 
that  no  cause  of  disease  has  so  Avide  a range,  or  so  large  a 
share,  as  the  use  of  spirituous  liquors. 

Dr.  Harris  states,  that  the  moderate  use  of  spirituous 
liquors  has  destroyed  many  who  Avere  ncA'er  drunk ; and 
Dr.  Kirk  gives  it  as  his  opinion,  that  men  who  Avere  never 
considered  intemperate,  by  daily  drinking  have  often  short- 
ened life  more  than  twenty  years ; and  that  the  respectable 
use  of  this  poison  kills  more  men  than  CA^en  drunkenness. 
Dr.  Wilson  gives  it  as  his  opinion,  that  the  use  of  spirit  in 
large  cities  causes  more  diseases  than  confined  air,  unAvhole- 
some  exhalations,  and  the  combined  influence  of  all  other 
evils. 

Dr.  Cheyne,  of  Dublin,  Ireland,  after  thirty  years’  prac- 
tice and  observation,  giA'es  it  as  his  opinion,  that  should  ten 
young  men  begin  at  tAventy-one  years  of  age  to  use  but  one 
glass  of  two  ounces  a day,  and  never  increase  the  quantity, 
nine  out  of  ten  A\muld  shorten  life  more  than  ten  years. 
But  should  moderate  drinkers  shorten  life  only  five  years, 
and  drunkards  only  ten,  and  should  there  be  but  four  mod- 
erate drinkers  to  one  drunkard,  it  Avould  in  thirty  years  cut 
off  in  the  United  States  32,400,000  years  of  human  life. 
An  aged  physician  in  Maryland  states,  that  Avhen  the  feA'er 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRIT. 


11 


breaks  out  there,  the  men  wlio  do  not  use  ardent  spirit  are 
not  half  as  likely  as  other  men  to  have  it  j and  that  if  they 
do  have  it,  they  are  ten  times  as  likely  to  recover.  In  the 
island  of  Key  West,  on  the  coast  of  Florida,  after  a great 
mortality,  it  was  found  that  every  person  who  had  died  had 
been  in  the  habit  of  using  ardent  spirit.  The  quantity  used 
was  afterwards  diminished  more  than  nine-tenths,  and  the 
inhabitants  became  remarkably  healthy. 

A gentleman  of  great  respectability  fi’om  the  south, 
states,  that  those  who  fall  victims  to  southern  climes,  are 
almost  invariably  addicted  to  the  free  use  of  ardent  spirit. 
Dr.  Mosely,  after  a long  residence  in  the  West  Indies,  de- 
clares, “that  persons  who  drink  nothing  but  cold  water,  or 
make  it  their  principal  drink,  are  but  little  affected  by 
tropical  climates ; that  they  undergo  the  greatest  fatigue 
without  inconvenience,  and  are  not  so  subject  as  others  to 
dangerous  diseases;”  and  Dr.  Bell,  “that  rum,  when  used 
even  moderately,  always  diminishes  the  strength,  and  ren- 
ders men  more  susceptible  of  disease ; and  that  we  might 
as  well  throw  oil  into  a house,  the  roof  of  which  is  on  fire, 
in  order  to  prevent  the  flames  from  extending  to  the  inside, 
as  to  pour  ardent  spirits  into  the  stomach  to  prevent  the 
effect  of  a hot  sun  upon  the  skin.” 

Of  seventy-seven  persons  found  dead  in  different  regions 
of  country,  sixty-seven,  according  to  the  coroners’  inquests, 
were  occasioned  by  strong  drink.  Nine-tenths  of  those  who 
die  suddenly  after  the  drinking  of  cold  water,  have  been 
habitually  addicted  to  the  free  use  of  ardent  spirit ; and 
that  draught  of  cold  water,  that  effort,  or  fatigue,  or  expos- 
ure to  the  sun,  or  disease,  which  a man  who  uses  no  ardent 
spirit  will  bear  without  inconvenience  or  danger,  will  often 
kill  those  who  use  it.  Their  liability  to  sickness  and  to 
death  is  often  increased  tenfold.  And  to  all  these  evils, 
those  who  continue  to  traffic  in  it,  after  all  the  light  which 
God  in  his  providence  has  thrown  upon  the  subject,  are 


12 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRIT. 


knowingly  accessoiy.  Whether  they  deal  in  it  by  whole- 
sale or  retail,  by  the  cargo  or  the  glass,  they  are,  in  their 
influence,  drunkard-makers.  So  are  also  those  who  fur- 
nish the  materials ; those  who  advertise  the  liquors,  and 
thus  promote  their  circulation ; those  who  lease  their  tene- 
ments to  be  employed  as  dram-shops,  or  stores  for  the  sale 
of  ardent  spirit ; and  those  also  who  purchase  their  grocer- 
ies of  spirit  dealers  rather  than  of  others,  for  the  purpose  of 
saving  to  the  amount  which  the  sale  of  ardent  spirit  enables 
such  men,  without  loss,  to  undersell  their  neighbors.  These 
are  all  accessory  to  the  making  of  drunkards,  and  as  such 
will  be  held  to  answer  at  the  divine  tribunal.  So. are  those 
men  who  employ  their  shipping  in  transporting  the  liquors, 
or  are  in  any  way  knowingly  aiding  and  abetting  in  per. 
petuating  their  use  as  a drink  in  the  community. 

It  is  estimated  that  four-fifths  of  those  who  were  swept 
away  by  the  late  direful  visitation  of  cholera,  were  such 
as  had  been  addicted  to  the  use  of  intoxicating  drink.  Dr. 
Bronson,  of  Albany,  who  spent  some  time  in  Canada,  and 
whose  professional  character  and  standing  give  great  weight 
to  his  opinions,  says,  “ Intemperance  of  any  species,  but 
particularly  intemperance  in  the  use  of  distilled  liquors,  has 
been  a more  productive  cause  of  cholera  than  any  other, 
and  indeed  than  all  others.”  And  can  men,  for  the  sake 
of  money,  make  it  a business  knowingly  and  perseveringlj' 
to  furnish  the  most  productive  cause  of  cholera,  and  not  be 
guilty  of  blood — not  manifest  a recklessness  of  character 
which  will  brand  the  mark  of  vice  and  infamy  on  their  fore- 
heads ? “ Drunkards  and  tipplers,”  he  adds,  “ have  been 

.searched  out  with  such  unerring  certainty  as  to  show  that 
the  arrows  of  death  have  not  been  dealt  out  with  indiscrimi- 
nation. An  indescribable  terror  has  spread  through  ihe 
ranks  of  this  class  of  beings.  They  see  the  bolts  of  de- 
struction aimed  at  their  heads,  and  every  one  calls  himself 
a victim.  There  seems  to  be  a natural  affinity  between 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRIT. 


13 


cholera  and  ardent  spirit.”  Wha*,  then,  in  days  of  expos- 
ure to  this  malady,  is  so  great  a nuisance  as  the  places 
which  furnish  this  poison  ? Says  Dr.  Rhinelander,  who, 
witli  Dr.  De  Kay,  was  deputed  from  New  York  to  visit 
Canada,  “We  may  be  asked  who  are  the  victims  of  this 
disease  ? I answer,  the  intemperate  it  invariably  cuts  off.” 
[n  Montreal,  after  1,200  had  been  attacked,  a Montreal 
paper  states,  that  “ not  a drunkard  who  has  been  attacked 
has  recovered  of  the  disease,  and  almost  all  the  victims 
have  been  at  least  moderate  drinkers.”  In  Paris,  the 
30,000  victims  were,  with  few  exceptions,  those  who  freely 
used  intoxicating  liquors.  Nine-tenths  of  those  who  died 
of  the  cholera  in  Poland  were  of  the  same  class. 

In  St.  Petersburgh  and  Moscow,  the  average  number  of 
deaths  in  the  bills  of  mortality,  during  the  prevalence  of  the 
cholera,  when  the  people  ceased  to  drink  brandy,  was  no 
greater  than  when  they  used  it  during  the  usual  months  of 
health — showing  that  brandy,  and  attendant  dissipation, 
killed  as  many  people  in  the  same  time  as  even  the  cholera 
itself,  that  pestilence  which  has  spread  sackcloth  over  the 
nations.  And  shall  the  men  who  know  this,  and  yet  con- 
tinue to  furnish  it  for  all  who  can  be  induced  to  buy,  escape 
the  execration  of  being  the  destroyers  of  their  race?  Of 
more  than  1,000  deaths  in  Montreal,  it  is  stated  that  only 
two  were  members  of  Temperance  societies.  It  was  also 
stated,  that  as  far  as  was  known  no  members  of  Temper- 
ance societies  in  Ireland,  Scotland,  or  England,  had  yet 
fallen  victims  to  that  dreadful  disease. 

From  Montreal,  Dr.  Bronson  writes,  “ Cholera  has  stood 
up  here,  as  it  has  done  everywhere,  the  advocate  of  Tem- 
perance. It  has  pleaded  most  eloquently,  and  with  tre- 
mendous effect.  The  disease  has  searched  out  the  haunt 
of  the  drunkard,  and  has  seldom  left  it  without  bearing 
away  its  victim.  Even  moderate  drinkers  have  been  but 
little  better  off.  Ardent  snirits,  in  any  shape,  and  in  all 

Temp.  Vol.  ^ 


14 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRIT. 


quantities,  hav'e  been  highly  detrimental.  Some  temperate 
men  resorted  to  them  during  the  prevalence  of  the  malady 
as  a preventive,  or  to  remove  the  feeling  of  uneasiness 
about  the  stomach,  or  for  the  purpose  of  drowning  their  ap- 
prehensions, but  they  did  it  at  their  peril.” 

Says  the  London  Morning  Herald,  after  stating  that  the 
cholera  fastens  its  deadly  grasp  upon  this  class  of  men, 
“ The  same  preference  for  the  intemperate  and  uncleanly 
has  characterized  the  cholera  everywhere.  Intemperance 
is  a qualification  which  it  never  overlooks.  Often  has  it 
passed  harmless  over  a w’ide  population  of  temperate  coun 
try  people,  and  poured  down,  as  an  overflowing  scourge, 
upon  the  drunkards  of  some  distant  town.”  Says  another 
English  publication,  “All  e.xperience,  both  in  Great  Britain 
and  elsewhere,  has  proved  that  those  who  have  been  addict- 
ed to  drinking  spirituous  liquors,  and  indulging  in  irregular 
habits,  have  been  the  greatest  sufferers  from  cholera.  In 
some  towns  the  drunkards  are  all  dead.”  Rammohun  Fin- 
gee,  the  famous  Indian  doctor,  says,  with  regard  to  India, 
that  people  who  do  not  take  opium,  or  spirits,  do  not  take  this 
disorder  even  when  they  are  with  those  who  have  it.  Mon- 
sieur Huber,  wlio  saw  2,160  persons  perish  in  twenty-five 
days  in  one  town  in  Russia,  says,  “It  is  a most  remarkable 
circumstance,  that  persons  given  to  drinking  have  been  swept 
away  like  flies.  In  Tiflis,  containing  20,000  inhabitants, 
every  drunkard  has  fallen — all  are  dead,  not  one  remains.” 

Dr.  Sewall,  of  Washington  city,  in  a letter  from  New 
Aork,  states,  that  of  204  cases  of  cholera  in  the  Park  hos- 
j)ital,  there  were  only  si.x  temperate  persons,  and  that  those 
had  recovered  ; while  122  of  the  others,  when  he  wrote, 
had  died ; and  that  the  facts  were  similar  in  all  the  other 
liospitals. 

In  Albany,  a careful  examination  was  made  by  respect- 
able gentlemen  into  the  cases  of  those  who  died  of  the  chol- 
era in  that  city  in  1882,  over  sixteen  years  of  age.  The 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRIT. 


ir» 

result  was  c.xamined  in  detail  by  nine  physicians,  members 
of  the  medical  staff  attached  to  the  board  of  health  in  that 
city — all  whi  belong  to  it,  except  two,  who  were  at  that  time 
absent — and  published  at  their  request  under  the  signature 
of  tlie  Chancellor  of  the  State,  and  the  five  distinguished 
gentlemen  who  compose  the  Executive  Committee  of  the 
New  York  State  Temperance  Society,  and  is  as  follows: 
number  of  deaths,  366  ; viz.  intemperate,  140 ; free  drink- 
ers, 55 ; modei'ate  drinkers,  mostly  habitual,  131  ; strictly 
temperate,  who  drank  no  ardent  spirits,  5 ; members  of  Tem- 
perance societies,  2 ; and  when  it  is  recollected  that  of  more 
than  5,000  members  of  Temperance  societies  in  the  city  of 
Albany,  only  two,  not  one  in  2,500,  fell  by  this  disease, 
while  it  cut  off  more  than  one  in  fifty  of  the  inhabitants  of 
that  city,  we  cannot  but  feel  that  men  who  furnish  ardent 
spirit  as  a drink  for  their  fellow-men,  are  manifestly  inviting 
the  ravages,  and  preparing  the  victims  of  this  fatal  malady, 
and  of  numerous  other  mortal  diseases ; and  when  inquisi- 
tion is  made  for  blood,  and  the  effects  of  their  employment 
are  examined  for  the  purpose  of  rendering  to  them  accord- 
ing to  their  work,  they  will  be  found,  should  they  continue, 
to  he  guilty  of  knowingly  destroying  their  fellow-men. 

What  right  have  men,  by  selling  ardent  spirit,  to  increase 
the  danger,  extend  the  ravages,  and  augment  and  perpetuate 
the  malignancy  of  the  cholera,  and  multiply  upon  the  com- 
munity numerous  other  mortal  diseases  ? Who  cannot  see 
that  it  is  a foul,  deep,  and  fatal  injury  inflicted  on  society  ? 
that  it  is  in  a high  degree  cruel  and  unjust?  that  it  scatters 
the  population  of  our  cities,  renders  our  business  stagnant, 
and  exposes  our  sons  and  our  daughters  to  premature  and 
sudden  death  ? So  manifestly  is  this  the  case,  that  the  board 
of  health  of  the  city  of  VVashington,  on  the  approach  of  the 
cholera,  declared  the  vending  of  ardent  spirit,  in  any  quan- 
tity, to  be  a nuisance  ; and,  as  such,  ordered  that  it  be  dis- 
continued for  the  space  of  ninety  days.  This  was  done  in 


10 


TRATFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRIT 


self-defence,  to  save  the  community  from  the  sickness  and 
death  which  the  vending  of  spirit  is  adapted  to  occasion. 
Nor  is  this  tendency  to  occasion  disease  and  death  confined 
to  the  time  when  the  cholera  is  raging. 

By  the  statement  of  the  physicians  in  Annapolis,  Mary 
land,  it  appears  that  the  average  number  of  deaths  by  in- 
temperance for  several  years,  has  been  one  to  every  329 
inhabitants ; which  would  make  in  the  United  States  40,000 
in  a year.  And  it  is  the  opinion  of  physicians,  that  as  many 
more  die  of  diseases  which  are  induced,  or  aggravated,  and 
rendered  mortal  by  the  use  of  ardent  spirit.  And  to  those 
results,  all  who  make  it,  sell  it,  or  use  it,  are  accessory. 

It  is  a principle  in  law,  that  the  perpetrator  of  crime, 
and  the  accessory  to  it,  are  both  guilty,  and  deserving  of 
punishment.  Men  have  been  brought  to  the  gallows  on  this 
principle.  It  applies  to  the  law  of  God.  And  as  the  drunk- 
ard cannot  go  to  heaven,  can  drunkard-makers  ? Are  the)' 
not,  when  tried  by  the  principles  of  the  Bible,  in  view  of 
the  developments  of  Providence,  manifestly  immoral  men  ? 
men  who,  for  the  sake  of  money,  will  knowingly  be  instru- 
mental in  corrupting  the  character,  increasing  the  diseases, 
and  destroying  the  lives  of  their  fellow-men  ? 

“But,”  says  one,  “I  never  sell  to  drunkards;  I sell 
only  to  sober  men.”  And  is  that  any  better?  Is  it  a less 
evil  to  the  community  to  make  drunkards  of  sober  men 
than  it  is  to  kill  drunkards  ? Ask  that  widowed  mother 
who  did  her  the  greatest  evil : the  man  who  only  killed 
her  drunken  husband,  or  the  man  who  made  a drunkard 
of  her  only  son  ? Ask  those  orphan  children  who  did  them 
tlie  greatest  injury : the  man  who  made  their  once  sober, 
kind,  and  affectionate  father  a drunkard,  and  thus  blasted 
all  their  hopes,  and  turned  their  home,  sweet  home,  into 
the  emblem  of  hell ; or  the  man  who,  after  they  had  suf- 
fered for  years  the  anguish,  the  indescribable  anguish  of 
the  drunkai’d’s  children,  and  seen  their  heart-broken  mother 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRIT. 


17 


in  danger  of  an  untimely  grave,  only  killed  their  drunken 
father,  and  thus  caused  in  their  habitation  a great  calm  ? 
Which  of  these  two  men  brought  upon  them  the  greatest 
evil?  Can  you  doubt?  You,  then,  do  nothing  but  make 
drunkards  of  sober  men,  or  expose  tliem  to  become  such. 
Suppose  that  all  the  evils  which  you  may  be  instrumental 
in  bringing  upon  other  children,  were  to  come  upon  your 
own,  and  that  you  were  to  bear  all  the  anguish  which  you 
may  occasion ; would  you  have  any  doubt  that  the  man 
who  would  knowingly  continue  to  be  accessory  to  the  bring- 
ing of  these  evils  upon  you,  must  be  a notoriously  wicked 
man  ? 

5.  Ardent  spirit  destroys  the  soul. 

Facts  in  great  numbers  are  now  before  the  public,  which 
show  conclusively  that  the  use  of  ardent  spirit  tends  strongly 
to  hinder  the  moral  and  spiritual  illumination  and  purification 
of  men  ; and  thus  to  prevent  their  salvation,  and  bring  upon 
them  the  horrors  of  the  second  death. 

A disease  more  dreadful  than  the  cholera,  or  any  other 
that  kills  the  body  merely,  is  raging,  and  is  universal,  threat- 
ening the  endless  death  of  the  soul.  A remedy  is  provided 
all-sufficient,  and  infinitely  efficacious  j but  the  use  of  ardent 
spirit  aggravates  the  disease,  and  with  millions  and  millions 
prevents  the  application  of  the  remedy  and  its  effect. 

It  appears  from  the  fifth  report  of  the  American  Tem- 
perance Society,  that  more  than  four  times  as  many,  in  pro- 
portion to  the  number,  over  wide  regions  of  country,  during 
the  preceding  year,  have  apparently  embraced  the  gospel, 
and  experienced  its  saving  power,  from  among  those  who 
had  renounced  the  use  of  ardent  spirit,  as  from  those  who 
continued  to  use  it. 

The  committee  of  the  New  York  State  Temperance 
Society,  in  view  of  the  peculiar  and  unprecedented  atten- 
tion to  religion  which  followed  the  adoption  of  the  plan  of 
abstinence  from  the  use  of  strong  drink,  remark,  that  when 
VOL.  IV. 


18 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRIT. 


this  course  is  taken,  the  greatest  enemy,  to  the  work  of 
the  Holy  Spirit  on  the  minds  and  hearts  of  men,  appears 
to  be  more  than  half  conquered. 

In  three  hundred  towns,  six-tenths  of  those  who  two 
years  ago  belonged  to  Temperance  societies,  but  were  not 
hopefully  pious,  have  since  become  so ; and  eight-tenths  of 
those  who  have  within  that  time  become  hopefully  pious, 
who  did  not  belong  to  Temperance  societies,  have  since 
joined  them.  In  numerous  places,  where  only  a minority 
of  the  people  abstained  from  the  use  of  ardent  spirit,  nine- 
tenths  of  those  who  have  of  late  professed  the  religion  of 
Christ,  have  been  from  that  minority.  This  is  occasioned 
in  various  ways.  The  use  of  ardent  spirit  keeps  many  away 
from  the  house  of  God,  and  thus  prevents  them  from  com- 
ing under  the  sound  of  the  gospel.  And  many  who  do 
come,  it  causes  to  continue  stupid,  worldly-minded,  and  un- 
holy. A single  glass  a day  is  enough  to  keep  multitudes 
of  men,  under  the  full  blaze  of  the  gospel,  from  ever  ex- 
periencing its  illuminating  and  purifying  power.  Even  if 
they  come  to  the  light,  and  it  shines  upon  them,  it  shines 
upon  darkness,  and  the  darkness  does  not  comprehend  it ; 
while  multitudes  who  thus  do  evil  will  not  come  to  the 
light,  lest  their  deeds  should  be  reproved.  There  is  a total 
contrariety  between  the  effect  produced  by  the  Holy  Spirit, 
and  the  effect  of  spirituous  liquor  upon  the  minds  and  hearts 
of  men.  Tlie  latter  tends  directly  and  powerfully  to  coun- 
teract the  former.  It  tends  to  make  men  feel  in  a manner 
which  Jesus  Christ  hates,  rich  spiritually,  increased  in  goods, 
and  in  need  of  nothing ; while  it  tends  for  ever  to  prevent 
them  from  feeling,  as  sinners  must  feel,  to  buy  of  him  gold 
tried  in  the  fire,  that  they  may  be  rich.  Those  who  use  it, 
therefore,  are  taking  the  direct  course  to  destroy  their  own 
souls;  and  those  who  furnish  it,  are  taking  the  course  to 
destroy  the  souls  of  their  fellow-men. 

In  one  town,  more  than  twenty  times  as  many,  in  pro- 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRIT. 


19 


portion  to  the  number,  professed  the  religion  of  Christ  during 
the  past  year,  of  those  who  did  not  use  ardent  spirit,  as  of 
those  who  did ; and  in  another  town  more  than  thirty  times 
as  many.  In  other  towns,  in  which  from  one-third  to  two- 
thirds  of  the  people  did  not  use  it,  and  from  twenty  to  forty 
made  a profession  of  religion,  they  were  all  from  the  same 
class.  What,  then,  are  those  men  doing  who  furnish  it,  but 
taking  the  course  which  is  adapted  to  keep  men  stupid  in 
sin  till  they  sink  into  the  agonies  of  the  second  death  ? And 
is  not  this  an  immorality  of  a high  and  aggravated  descrip- 
tion ? and  one  which  ought  to  mark  every  man  who  under- 
stands its  nature  and  effects,  and  yet  continues  to  live  in  it, 
as  a notoriously  immoral  man  ? What  though  he  does  not 
live  in  other  immoralities — is  not  this  enough  ? Suppose  he 
should  manufacture  poisonous  miasma,  and  cause  the  cholera 
in  our  dwellings  ; sell,  knowingly,  the  cause  of  disease,  and 
increase  more  than  one-fifth  over  wide  regions  of  country  the 
number  of  adult  deaths,  would  he  not  be  a murderer  ? “I 
know,”  says  the  learned  Judge  Cranch,  “that  the  cup” 
which  contains  ardent  spirit  “ is  poisoned ; I know  that  it 
may  cause  death,  that  it  may  cause  more  than  death,  that 
it  may  lead  to  crime,  to  sin,  to  the  tortures  of  everlasting 
remorse.  Am  I not,  then,  a murderer  ? worse  than  a mur- 
derer ? as  much  worse  as  the  soul  is  better  than  the  body  ? 
If  ardent  spirits  were  nothing  worse  than  a deadly  poison — 
if  they  did  not  excite  and  inflame  all  the  evil  passions — if 
they  did  not  dim  that  heavenly  light  which  the  Almighty 
has  implanted  in  our  bosoms  to  guide  us  through  the  obscure 
passages  of  our  pilgrimage — if  tliey  did  not  quench  the  Holy 
Spirit  in  our  hearts,  they  would  be  comparatively  harmless. 
It  is  their  moral  effect — it  is  the  ruin  of  the  soul  which  they 
produce,  that  renders  them  so  dreadful.  The  difference  be- 
tween death  by  simple  poison,  and  death  by  habitual  intoxi- 
cation, may  extend  to  the  whole  difference  between  ever- 
lasting happiness  and  eternal  death.”  \ 


20 


TRAFFIC  LV  ARDENT  SPIRIT. 


And,  say  the  New  York  State  Society,  at  the  head  of 
which  is  the  Chancellor  of  the  State,  “ Disguise  that  business 
as  they  will,  it  is  still,  in  its  true  character,  the  business  of 
destroying  the  bodies  and  souls  of  men.  The  vender  and 
the  maker  of  spirits,  in  the  whole  range  of  them,  from  the 
pettiest  grocer  to  the  most  extensive  distiller,  are  fairly 
chargeable,  not  only  with  supplying  the  appetite  for  spirits, 
but  with  creating  that  unnatural  appetite ; not  only  with 
supplying  the  drunkard  with  the  fuel  of  his  vices,  but  with 
7naking  the  drunkard. 

“ In  reference  to  the  taxes  with  which  the  making  and 
vending  of  spirits  loads  the  community,  how  unfair  towards 
others  is  the  occupation  of  the  maker  and  vender  of  them ! 
A town,  for  instance,  contains  one  hundred  drunkards. 
The  profit  of  making  these  drunkards  is  enjoyed  by  some 
half  a dozen  persons ; but  the  burden  of  these  drunkards 
rests  upon  the  whole  town.  We  do  not  suggest  that  there 
should  be  such  a law,  but  we  ask  whether  there  would  be 
one  law  in  the  whole  statute-book  more  righteous  than  that 
which  should  require  those  who  have  the  profit  of  making 
our  drunkards  to  be  burdened  with  the  support  of  them.” 

Multitudes  who  once  cherished  the  fond  anticipation  of 
happiness  in  this  life  and  that  to  come,  there  is  reason  to 
believe,  are  now  wailing  beyond  the  reach  of  hope,  through 
the  influence  of  ardent  spirit ; and  multitudes  more,  if  men 
continue  to  furnish  it  as  a drink,  especially  sober  men,  will 
go  down  to  weep  and  wail  with  them  to  endless  ages. 

“ But,”  says  one,  “ the  traffic  in  ardent  spirit  is  a lawful 
business;  it  is  approbated  by  law,  and  is  therefore  right.” 
But  the  keeping  of  gambling  houses  is,  in  some  cases, 
approbated  by  human  law.  Is  that  therefore  right  ? The 
keeping  of  brothels  is,  in  some  cases,  approbated  by  law. 
Is  that  therefore  right  ? Is  it  human  law  that  is  the  standard 
of  morality  and  religion  ? May  not  a man  be  a notoriously 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRIT. 

wicked  man,  and  yet  not  violate  human  law  ? The  question 
is,  Is  it  right  ? Does  it  accord  with  the  divine  law  ? Does 
it  tend  in  its  effects  to  bring  glory  to  God  in  the  highest,  and 
to  promote  the  best  good  of  mankind  ? If  not,  the  word  of 
God  forbids  it ; and  if  a man  who  has  the  means  of  under- 
standing its  nature  and  effects  continues  to  follow  it,  he  does 
it  at  the  peril  of  his  soul. 

“ But,”  says  another,  “ if  I should  not  sell  it,  I could  not 
sell  so  many  other  things.”  If  you  could  not,  then  you  are 
forbidden  by  the  word  of  God  to  sell  so  many  other  things. 
And  if  you  continue  to  make  money  by  that  which  tends  to 
destroy  your  fellow-men,  you  incur  the  displeasure  of  Je- 
hovah. “ But  if  I should  not  sell  it,  I must  change  my 
business.”  Then  you  are  required  by  the  Lord  to  change 
your  business.  A voice  from  the  throne  of  his  excellent 
glory  cries,  “ Turn  ye,  turn  ye  from  this  evil  way  ; for  why 
will  ye  die  1” 

“ If  I should  turn  from  it,  I could  not  support  my  family.” 
This  is  not  true  ; at  least,  no  one  has  a right  to  say  that  it  is 
true  till  he  has  tried  it,  and  done  his  whole  duty  by  ceasing 
to  do  evil  and  learning  to  do  well,  trusting  in  God,  and  has 
found  that  his  family  is  not  supported.  Jehovah  declares, 
that  such  as  seek  the  Lord,  and  are  governed  by  his  will, 
shall  not  want  any  good  thing.  And  till  men  have  made 
the  experiment  of  obeying  him  in  all  things,  and  found  that 
they  cannot  support  their  families,  they  have  no  right  to  say 
that  it  is  necessary  for  them  to  sell  ardent  spirit.  And  if 
they  do  say  this,  it  is  a libel  on  the  divine  character  and 
government.  There  is  no  truth  in  it.  He  who  feeds  the 
sparrow  and  clothes  the  lily,  will,  if  they  do  right,  provide 
for  them  and  their  families ; and  there  is  no  shadow  of 
necessity,  in  order  to  obtain  support,  for  them  to  carry  on  a 
business  which  destroys  their  fellow-men. 

“ But  others  will  do  it,  if  I do  not.”  Others  will  send 
out  their  vessels,  steal  the  black  man,  and  sell  him  and  his 


22 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRIT. 


children  into  perpetual  bondage,  if  you  do  not.  Others  will 
steal,  rob,  and  commit  murder,  if  you  do  not ; and  why  may 
not  you  do  it,  and  have  a portion  of  the  profit,  as  well  as 
they  ? Because,  if  you  do,  you  will  be  a thief,  a robber, 
and  a murderer,  like  them.  You  will  here  be  partaker  of 
their  guilt,  and  hereafter  of  their  plagues.  Every  friend, 
therefore,  to  you,  to  your  Maker,  or  the  eternal  interests  of 
men,  will,  if  acquainted  with  this  subject,  say  to  you,  As 
you  value  the  favor  of  God,  and  would  escape  his  righteous 
and  eternal  indignation,  renounce  this  work  of  death;  for  he 
that  soweth  death,  shall  also  reap  death. 

“ But  our  fathers  imported,  manufactured,  and  sold 
ardent  spirit,  and  were  they  not  good  men  ? Have  not 
they  gone  to  heaven  ?”  Men  who  professed  to  be  good  once 
had  a multiplicity  of  wives,  and  have  not  some  of  them  too 
gone  to  heaven  ? Men  who  professed  to  be  good  once  were 
engaged  in  the  slave-trade,  and  have  not  some  of  them  gone 
to  he,aven  ? But  can  men  who  understand  the  will  of  God 
witli  regard  to  these  subjects,  continue  to  do  such  things  now, 
and  yet  go  to  heaven  ? The  principle  which  applies  in  this 
case,  and  which  makes  the  difference  between  those  who  did 
such  things  once,  and  those  who  continue  to  do  them  now,  is 
that  to  which  Jesus  Christ  referred  when  he  said,  “ If  I had 
not  come  and  spoken  to  them,  they  had  not  had  sin  ; but  now 
they  have  no  cloak  for  their  sin.”  The  days  of  that  dark- 
ness and  ignorance  which  God  may  have  winked  at  have 
gone  by,  and  he  now  commandeth  all  men  to  whom  his  will 
is  made  known  to  repent.  Your  fathers,  when  they  were 
engaged  in  selling  ardent  spirit,  did  not  know  that  all  men, 
under  all  circumstances,  would  be  better  without  it.  They 
did  not  know  that  it  caused  three-quarters  of  the  pauperism 
and  crime  in  the  land — that  it  deprived  many  of  reason — 
greatly  increased  the  number  and  severity  of  diseases,  and 
brought  down  such  multitudes  to  an  untimely  grave.  The 
facts  had  not  then  been  collected  and  published.  They  did 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRIT. 


23 


not  know  that  it  tended  so  fatally  to  obstruct  the  progress  of 
the  Gospel,  and  ruin,  for  eternity,  the  souls  of  men.  You 
do  know  it,  or  have  the  means  of  knowing  it.  You  cannot 
sin  with  as  little  guilt  as  did  your  fathers.  The  facts,  which 
are  the  voice  of  God  in  his  providence,  and  manifest  his  will, 
are  now  before  the  world.  By  them  he  has  come  and  spoken 
to  you.  And  if  you  continue,  under  these  circumstances, 
to  violate  his  will,  you  will  have  no  cloak,  no  covering,  no 
excuse  for  your  sin.  And  though  sentence  against  this  evil 
work  is  not  executed  at  once,  judgment,  if  you  continue, 
will  not  linger,  nor  will  damnation  slumber. 

The  accessory  and  the  principal,  in  the  commission  of 
crime,  are  both  guilty.  Both  by  human  laws  are  condemned. 
The  principle  applies  to  the  law  of  God  ■,  and  not  only  drunk- 
ards, but  drunkard-makers — not  only  murderers,  but  those 
who  excite  others  to  commit  murder,  and  furnish  them  with 
the  known  cause  of  their  evil  deeds,  will,  if  they  understand 
what  they  do,  and  continue  thus  to  rebel  against  God,  be 
shut  out  of  heaven. 

Among  the  Jews,  if  a man  had  a beast  that  went  out  and 
killed  a man,  the  beast,  said  Jehovah,  shall  be  slain,  and  his 
flesh  shall  not  be  eaten.  The  owner  must  lose  the  whole  of 
him  as  a testimony  to  the  sacredness  of  human  life,  and  a 
warning  to  all  not  to  do  any  thing,  or  connive  at  any  thing 
that  tended  to  destroy  it.  But  the  owner,  if  he  did  not  know 
that  the  beast  was  dangerous,  and  liable  to  kill,  was  not 
otherwise  to  be  punished.  But  if  he  did  know,  if  it  had  been 
testified  to  the  owner  that  the  beast  was  dangerous,  and  liable 
to  kill,  and  he  did  not  keep  him  in,  but  let  him  go  out,  and 
he  killed  a man,  then,  by  the  direction  of  Jehovah,  the  beast 
and  the  owner  were  both  to  be  put  to  death.  The  owner, 
under  these  circumstances,  M'as  held  responsible,  and  justly 
too,  for  the  injury  which  his  beast  might  do.  Though  men 
are  not  required  or  permitted  now  to  execute  this  law,  as 
they  were  when  God  was  the  Magistrate,  yet  the  reason  of 


24 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRIT. 


the  law  remains.  It  is  founded  in  justice,  and  is  eternal. 
To  the  pauperism,  crime,  sickness,  insanity,  and  death 
temporal  and  eternal,  which  ardent  spirit  occasions,  those 
who  knowingly  furnish  the  materials,  those  who  manufac- 
ture, and  those  who  sell  it,  are  all  accessory,  and  as  such 
will  be  held  responsible  at  the  divine  tribunal.  There  was 
a time  when  the  owners  did  not  know  the  dangerous  and 
destructive  qualities  of  this  article — when  the  facts  had  not 
been  developed  and  published,  nor  the  minds  of  men  turned 
to  the  subject;  when  they  did  not  know  that  it  caused  such 
a vast  portion  of  the  vice  and  wretchedness  of  the  community, 
and  such  wide-spreading  desolation  to  the  temporal  and 
eternal  interests  of  men ; and  although  it  then  destroyed 
thousands,  for  both  worlds,  the  guilt  of  the  men  who  sold  it 
was  comparatively  small.  But  now  they  sin  against  light, 
pouring  down  upon  them  with  unutterable  brightness  ; and 
if  they  know  what  they  do,  and  in  full  view  of  its  conse- 
quences continue  that  work  of  death — not  only  let  the  poison 
go  out,  but  furnish  it,  and  send  it  out  to  all  who  are  disposed 
to  purchase — it  had  been  better  for  them,  and  better  for 
many  others,  if  they  had  never  been  born.  For,  briefly  to 
sum  up  what  we  have  said, 

1.  It  is  the  selling  of  that,  without  the  use  of  which 
nearly  all  the  business  of  this  world  was  conducted,  till 
within  less  than  three  hundred  years,  and  which  of  course 
is  not  needful. 

2.  It  is  the  selling  of  that  which  was  not  generally  used 
by  the  people  of  this  country  for  more  than  a hundred  years 

^ after  the  country  was  settled,  and  which  by  hundreds  of 
thousands,  and  some  in  all  kinds  of  lawful  business,  is  not 
used  now.  Once  they  did  use  it,  and  thought  it  needful  or 
useful.  But  by  experiment,  the  best  evidence  in  the  world, 
they  have  found  that  they  were  mistaken,  and  that  they  are 
in  all  respects  better  without  it.  And  the  cases  are  so  nu- 
merous as  to  make  it  certain,  that  should  the  experiment  be 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRIT.  25 

fairly  made,  this  would  be  the  case  with  all.  Of  course  it 
is  not  useful. 

3.  It  is  the  selling  of  that  which  is  a real,  a subtile  and 
very  destructive  poison — a poison  which,  by  men  in  health, 
cannot  be  taken  without  deranging  healthy  action,  and  in- 
ducing more  or  less  disease,  both  of  body  and  mind  ; which 
is,  when  taken  in  any  quantity,  positively  hurtful;  and 
which  is  of  course  forbidden  by  the  word  of  God. 

4.  It  is  the  selling  of  that  which  tends  to  form  an  unnat- 
ural, and  a very  dangerous  and  destructive  appetite  ; which, 
by  gratification,  like  the  desire  of  sinning  in  the  man  who 
sins,  tends  continually  to  increase,  and  which  thus  exposes 
all  who  form  it  to  come  to  a premature  grave. 

5.  It  is  the  selling  of  that  which  causes  a great  portion 
of  all  the  pauperism  in  our  land  •,  and  thus,  for  the  benefit 
of  a few — those  who  sell — brings  an  enormous  tax  on  the 
whole  community.  Is  this  fair  ? Is  it  just  ? Is  it  not  ex- 
posing our  children  and  youth  to  become  drunkards  ? And 
is  it  not  inflicting  great  evils  on  society  ? 

6.  It  is  the  selling  of  that  which  excites  to  a great  por- 
tion of  all  the  crimes  that  are  committed,  and  which  is  thus 
shown  to  be  in  its  effects  hostile  to  the  moral  government  of 
God,  and  to  the  social,  civil,  and  religious  interests  of  men ; 
at  war  with  their  highest  good,  both  for  this  life  and  the  life 
to  come. 

7.  It  is  the  selling  of  that,  the  sale  and  use  of  which,  if 
continued,  will  form  intemperate  appetites,  which,  if  formed, 
will  be  gratified,  and  thus  will  perpetuate  intemperance  and 
all  its  abominations  to  the  end  of  the  world. 

8.  It  is  the  selling  of  that  which  makes  wives  widows, 
and  children  orphans  ; which  leads  husbands  often  to  mur- 
der their  wives,  and  wives  to  murder  their  husbands ; parents 
to  murder  their  children,  and  children  to  murder  their  par- 
ents ; and  which  prepares  multitudes  for  the  prison,  for  the 
gallows,  and  for  hell. 

VOL. IV. 


2G 


TRAFFIC  lA’  ARDEA'T  SFlfilT. 


9.  It  is  the  selling  of  that  which  greatly  increases  the 
amount  and  severity  of  sickness ; which  in  many  cases 
destroys  reason ; which  causes  a great  portion  of  all  the 
sudden  deaths,  and  brings  down  multitudes  who  were  never 
intoxicated,  and  never  condemned  to  suffer  the  penalty  of 
the  civil  law,  to  an  untimely  grave. 

10.  It  is  the  selling  of  that  which  tends  to  lessen  the 
health,  the  reason,  and  the  usefulness,  to  diminish  the  com- 
fort, and  shorten  the  lives  of  all  who  habitually  use  it. 

11.  It  is  the  selling  of  that  which  darkens  the  under- 
standing, sears  the  conscience,  pollutes  the  affections,  and 
debases  all  the  powers  of  man. 

12.  It  is  the  selling  of  that  which  weakens  the  power  of 
motives  to  do  right,  and  increases  the  power  of  motives  to  do 
wrong,  and  is  thus  shown  to  be  in  its  effects  hostile  to  the 
moral  government  of  God,  as  well  as  to  the  temporal  and 
eternal  interests  of  men  ; which  excites  men  to  rebel  against 
him,  and  to  injure  and  destroy  one  another.  And  no  man 
can  sell  it  without  exerting  an  influence  which  tends  to  hin- 
der the  reign  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  over  the  minds  and 
hearts  of  men,  and  to  lead  them  to  persevere  in  iniquity, 
till,  notwithstanding  all  the  kindness  of  Jehovah,  their  case 
shall  become  hopeless. 

Suppose  a man,  when  about  to  commence  the  traffic  in 
ardent  spirit,  should  write  in  great  capitals  on  his  sign-board, 
to  be  seen  and  read  of  all  men,  what  he  will  do,  viz.,  that 
so  many  of  the  inhabitants  of  this  town  or  city,  he  will,  for 
the  sake  of  getting  their  money,  make  paupers,  and  send 
them  to  the  almshouse,  and  thus  oblige  the  whole  commu- 
nity to  support  them  and  their  families ; that  so  many  others 
he  will  excite  to  the  commission  of  crimes,  and  thus  increase 
the  expenses,  and  endanger  the  peace  and  welfare  of  the 
community ; that  so  many  he  will  send  to  the  jail,  and  so 
many  more  to  the  state  prison,  and  so  many  to  the  gallows ; 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRIT. 


27 


that  so  many  he  will  visit  with  sore  and  distressing  diseases ; 
and  in  so  many  cases  diseases  which  would  have  been  com- 
paratively harmless,  he  will  by  his  poison  render  fatal ; that 
in  so  many  cases  he  will  deprive  persons  of  reason,  and  in 
so  many  cases  will  cause  sudden  death  ; that  so  many  wives 
he  will  make  widows,  and  so  many  children  he  will  make 
orphans,  and  that  in  so  many  cases  he  will  cause  the  chil- 
dren to  grow  up  in  ignorance,  vice,  and  crime,  and  after 
being  nuisances  on  earth,  will  bring  them  to  a premature 
grave  ; that  in  so  many  cases  he  will  prevent  the  efficacy 
of  the  Gospel,  grieve  away  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  ruin  for 
eternity  the  souls  of  men.  And  suppose  he  could,  and  should 
give  some  faint  conception  of  what  it  is  to  lose  the  soul,  and 
of  the  overwhelming  guilt  and  coming  wretchedness  of  him 
who  is  knowingly  instrumental  in  producing  this  ruin ; and 
suppose  he  should  put  at  the  bottom  of  the  sign  this  question, 
viz..  What,  you  may  ask,  can  be  my  object  in  acting  so 
much  like  a devil  incarnate,  and  bringing  such  accumulated 
wretchedness  upon  a comparatively  happy  people  ? and 
under  it  should  put  the  true  answer,  money  ; and  go  on  to 
say,  I have  a family  to  support ; I want  money,  and  must 
have  it ; this  is  my  business,  I was  brought  up  to  it ; and 
if  I should  not  follow  it  I must  change  my  business,  or  I 
could  not  support  my  family.  And  as  all  faces  begin  to 
gather  blackness  at  the  approaching  ruin,  and  all  hearts 
to  boil  with  indignation  at  its  author,  suppose  he  should 
add  for  their  consolation,  “ If  I do  not  bring  this  destruc- 
tion upon  you,  somebody  else  will.”  What  would  they 
think  of  him  ? what  would  all  the  world  think  of  him  ? 
what  ought  they  to  think  of  him  ? And  is  it  any  worse 
for  a man  to  tell  the  people  beforehand  honestly  what  he 
will  do,  if  they  buy  and  use  his  poison,  than  it  is  to  go  on 
and  do  it  ? And  what  if  they  are  not  aware  of  the  mis- 
chief which  he  is  doing  them,  and  he  can  accomplish  it 
through  their  own  perverted  and  voluntary  agency  ? Is  it 


29 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRIT. 


not  equally  abominable,  if  he  knows  it,  and  does  not  cease 
from  producing  it  ? 

And  if  there  are  chuiohes  whose  members  are  doing 
such  things,  and  those  churches  are  not  blessed  with  the 
presence  and  favor  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  they  need  not  be  at 
any  loss  for  the  reason.  And  if  they  should  never  again, 
while  they  continue  in  this  state,  be  blessed  with  the  reviv- 
ing influence  of  God’s  Spirit,  they  need  not  be  at  any  loss 
for  the  reason.  Their  own  members  are  exerting  a strong 
and  fatal  influence  against  it ; and  that  too  after  Divine 
Providence  has  shown  them  what  they  are  doing.  And  in 
many  such  cases  there  is  awful  guilt  with  regard  to  this 
thing  resting  upon  the  whole  church.  Though  they  have 
known  for  years  what  these  men  were  doing  •,  have  seen  the 
misery,  heard  the  oaths,  witnessed  the  crimes,  and  known 
the  wretchedness  and  deaths  which  they  have  occasioned, 
and  perhaps  have  spoken  of  it,  and  deplored  it  among  one 
another ; many  of  them  have  never  spoken  on  this  subject 
to  the  persons  themselves.  They  have  seen  them  scattering 
firebrands,  arrows,  and  death  temporal  and  eternal,  and  yet 
have  never  so  much  as  warned  them  on  the  subject,  and 
never  besought  them  to  give  up  their  work  of  death. 

An  individual  lately  conversed  with  one  of  his  pro- 
fessed Christian  brethren  who  was  engaged  in  this  traffic, 
and  told  him  not  only  that  he  was  ruining  for  both  worlds 
many  of  his  fellow-men,  but  that  his  Christian  brethren 
viewed  his  business  as  inconsistent  with  his  profession,  and 
tending  to  counteract  all  efforts  for  the  salvation  of  men ; 
and  the  man,  after  frankly  acknowledging  that  it  was 
wrong,  said  that  this  was  the  first  time  that  any  of  them 
had  conversed  with  him  on  the  subject.  This  may  be  the 
case  with  other  churches ; and  while  it  is,  the  whole  church 
is  conniving  at  the  evil,  and  the  whole  church  is  guilty. 
Every  brother,  in  such  a case,  is  bound,  on  his  own  ac- 
count, to  converse  with  him  who  is  thus  aiding  the  powers 


TKAi-FlC  IN  ARUENT  SPIRIT- 


29 


of  darkness,  and  opposing  the  kingdom  of  Jesus  Christ,  and 
try  to  persuade  him  to  cease  from  this  destructive  business. 

The  whole  church  is  bound  to  make  efforts,  and  use  all 
proper  means  to  accomplish  this  result.  And  before  half 
the  individual  members  have  done  their  duty  on  this  sub- 
ject,  they  may  expect,  if  the  offending  brother  has,  and 
manifests  the  spirit  of  Christ,  that  he  will  cease  to  be  an 
offence  to  his  brethren,  and  a stumbling-block  to  the  world, 
over  which  such  multitudes  fall  to  the  pit  of  woe.  And  till 
the  church,  the  whole  church,  do  their  duty  on  this  subject, 
they  cannot  be  freed  from  the  guilt  of  conniving  at  the  evil'. 
And  no  wonder  if  the  Lord  leaves  them  to  be  as  the  moun- 
tains of  Gilboa,  on  which  there  was  neither  rain  or  dew. 
And  should  the  church  receive  from  the  world  those  who 
make  it  a business  to  carry  on  this  notoriously  immoral 
traffic,  they  will  greatly  increase  their  guilt,  and  ripen  for 
the  awful  displeasure  of  God.  And  unless  members  of  the 
church  shall  cease  to  teach,  by  their  business,  the  fatal 
error  that  it  is  right  for  men  to  buy  and  use  ardent  spirit  as 
a drink,  the  evil  will  never  be  eradicated,  intemperance  will 
never  cease,  and  the  day  of  millennial  glory  never  come. 

Each  individual  who  names  the  name  of  Christ  is  called 
upon,  by  the  providence  of  God,  to  act  on  this  subject  openly 
and  decidedly  for  him,  and  in  such  a manner  as  is  adapted 
to  banish  intemperance  and  all  its  abominations  from  the 
earth,  and  to  cause  temperance  and  all  its  attendant  bene- 
fits universally  ta  prevail.  And  if  ministers  of  the  Gospel 
and  members  of  Christian  churches  do  not  connive  at  the 
sin  of  furnishing  this  poison  as  a drink  for  their  fellow-men  ; 
and  men  who,  in  opposition  to  truth  and  duty,  continue  to 
be  engaged  in  this  destructive  employment,  are  viewed  and 
treated  as  wicked  men  ; the  work  which  the  Lord  hath  com- 
menced and  carried  forward  with  a rapidity,  and  to  an  ex- 
tent hitherto  unexampled  in  the  history  of  the  world,  will 
continue  to  move  onward  till  not  a name,  nor  a trace,  nor  a 

VOL.  IV. 


30 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRIT. 


shadow  of  a drunkard,  or  a drunkard-maker,  shall  be  found 
on  the  globe. 

Professed  Christian — In  the  manufacture  or  sale  of 
ardent  spirit  as  a drink,  you  do  not,  and  you  cannot  honor 
God ; but  you  do,  and,  so  long  as  you  continue  it,  you  will 
greatly  dishonor  Him.  You  exert  an  influence  which  tends 
directly  and  strongly  to  ruin,  for  both  worlds,  your  fellow- 
men.  Should  you  take  a quantity  of  that  poisonous  liquid 
into  your  closet,  present  it  before  the  Lord,  confess  to  him 
its  nature  and  effects,  spread  out  before  him  what  it  has 
done  and  what  it  will  do,  and  attempt  to  ask  him  to  bless 
you  in  extending  its  influence  ; it  would,  unless-  your  con- 
science is  already  seared  as  with  a hot  iron,  appear  to  you 
like  blasphemy.  You  could  no  more  do  it  than  you  could 
take  the  instruments  of  gambling  and  attempt  to  ask  God  to 
bless  you  in  extending  them  through  the  community.  And 
why  not,  if  it  is  a lawful  business?  Why  not  ask  God  to 
increase  it,  and  make  you  an  instrument  in  extending  it 
over  the  country,  and  perpetuating  it  to  all  future  genera- 
tions ? Even  the  worldly  and  profane  man,  when  he  hears 
about  professing  Christians  offering  prayer  to  God  that  he 
would  bless  them  in  the  manufacture  or  sale  of  ardent 
spirit,  involuntarily  shrinks  back  and  says,  “ That  is  too 
bad.”  He  can  see  that  it  is  an  abomination.  And  if  it  is 
too  bad  for  a professed  Christian  to  pray  about  it,  is  it  not 
too  bad  for  him  to  practise  it  ? If  you  continue,  under  all 
the  light  which  God  in  his  providence  has  furnished  with 
regard  to  its  hurtful  nature  and  destructive  effects,  to  furnish 
ardent  spirit  as  a drink  for  your  fcllow-men,  you  will  run 
the  fearful  hazard  of  losing  your  soul,  and  you  will  exert  an 
influence  which  powerfully  tends  to  destroy  the  souls  of 
your  fellow-men.  Every  time  you  furnish  it  you  are  ren- 
dering it  less  likely  that  they  will  be  illuminated,  sanctified, 
and  saved,  and  more  likely  that  they  will  continue  in  sin 
and  go  down  to  the  chambers  of  death. 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRIT. 


31 


It  is  always  worse  for  a church-member  to  do  an  im- 
moral act,  and  teach  an  immoral  sentiment,  than  for  an  im- 
moral man,  because  it  does  greater  mischief.  And  this  is 
understood,  and  often  adverted  to  by  the  immoral  them- 
selves. Even  drunkards  are  now  stating  it  to  their  fellow- 
drunkards,  that  church-members  are  not  better  tlian  they. 
And  to  prove  it,  are  quoting  tlie  fact,  that  although  they 
are  not  drunkards,  and  perliaps  do  not  get  drunk,  they,  for 
the  sake  of  money,  carry  on  the  business  of  making  drunk- 
ards. And  are  not  the  men  and  their  business  of  the  same 
character  ? “ The  deacon,”  says  a drunkard,  “ will  not 

use  ardent  spirit  himself : he  says,  ‘ It  is  poison  !’  But  for 
six  cents  he  will  sell  it  to  me.  And  though  he  will  not  fur- 
nish it  to  his  own  children,  for  he  says,  ‘ It  will  ruin  them !’ 
yet  he  will  furnish  it  to  mine.  And  there  is  my  neighbor, 
who  was  once  as  sober  as  the  deacon  himself,  but  he  had  a 
pretty  farm,  which  the  deacon  wanted,  and  for  the  sake  of 
getting  it  he  has  made  him  a drunkard.  And  his  wife,  as 
good  a woman  as  ever  lived,  has  died  of  a broken  heart, 
because  her  children  would  follow  their  father.”  No,  you 
cannot  convince  even  a drunkard,  that  the  man  who  is  sell- 
ing him  that  which  he  knows  is  killing  him,  is  any  better 
than  the  drunkard  himself.  Nor  can  you  convince  a sober 
man,  that  he  who,  for  the  sake  of  money,  will,  with  his  eyes 
open,  make  drunkards  of  sober  men,  is  any  less  guilty  than 
the  drunkards  he  makes. 

Is  this  writing  upon  their  employment  “Holiness  unto 
the  Lord,”  without  which  no  one,  from  the  Bible,  can  expect 
to  be  prepared  for  the  holy  joys  of  heaven  1 As  ardent 
spirit  is  a poison  which,  when  used  even  moderately,  tends 
to  harden  the  heart,  to  sear  the  conscience,  to  blind  the  un- 
derstanding, to  pollute  the  affections,  to  weaken  and  derange 
and  debase  the  whole  man,  and  to  lessen  the  prospect  of  his 
eternal  life,  it  is  the  indispensable  duty  of  each  person  to 
renounce  it.  And  he  cannot  refuse  to  do  this  without  be- 


‘62 


TRAFFIC  RN  ARDENT  SPIRIT. 


coming,  if  acquainted  with  this  subject,  knowingly  accessory 
to  the  temporal  and  eternal  ruin  of  his  fellow-men.  And 
what  will  it  profit  him  to  gain  even  the  whole  world  by  that 
which  ruins  the  soul  ? 

My  friend,  you  are  soon  to  die,  and  in  eternity  to  witness 
the  influence,  the  whole  influence,  which  you  exert  while  on 
earth,  and  you  are  to  witness  its  consequence  in  joy  or  sor- 
row to  endless  being.  Imagine  yourself  now,  where  you 
soon  will  be,  on  your  dealh-hed.  And  imagine  that  you 
have  a full  view  of  the  property  which  you  have  caused  to 
be  wasted,  or  which  you  have  gained  without  furnishing  any 
valuable  equivalent ; of  the  health  which  you  have  destroyed, 
and  the  characters  which  you  have  demoralized  ; of  the  wives 
that  you  have  made  widows,  and  the  children  that  you  have 
made  orphans ; of  all  the  lives  that  you  have  shortened, 
and  all  the  souls  that  you  have  destroyed.  O ! imagine  that 
Uiese  are  the  only  “rod  and  staff”  which  you  have  to  com- 
fort you  as  you  go  down  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death, 
and  that  they  will  all  meet  you  in  full  array  at  the  judgment 
and  testify  against  you.  What  will  it  profit  you,  though 
you  have  gained  more  money  than  you  otherwise  would, 
when  you  have  left  it  all  far  behind  in  that  world  which  is 
destined  to  fire,  and  the  day  of  perdition  of  ungodly  men  ? 
What  will  it  profit,  when  you  are  enveloped  in  the  influence 
which  you  have  exerted,  and  are  experiencing  its  conse- 
quences to  endless  ages ; finding  for  ever  that  as  a man 
soweth  so  must  he  reap,  and  that  if  he  has  sowed  death  he 
must  reap  death?  Do  not  any  longer  assist  in  destroying 
men,  nor  expose  yourself  and  your  children  to  be  destroyed. 
Do  good,  and  good  only,  to  all  as  you  have  opportunity,  and 
good  shall  come  unto  you. 


THE 


REWARDS  OF  DRUNKENNESS. 


If  you  wish  to  be  always  thirsty,  be  a Drunkard  ; lor  the 
oftener  and  more  you  drink,  the  oftener  and  more  thirsty  you 
will  be. 


If  you  seek  to  prevent  your  friends  raising  you  in  the 
world,  be  a Drunkard ; for  that  will  defeat  all  their  ehbrts. 

If  you  would  effectually  counteract  your  own  attempts  to 
do  well,  be  a Drunkard  ; and  you  will  not  be  disappointed. 

If  you  wish  to  repel  the  endeavors  of  the  whole  human 
race  to  raise  you  to  character,  credit,  and  prosperity,  be  a 
Drunkard  ; and  yoir  will  most  assuredly  triumph. 

If  you  are  determined  to  be  poor,  be  a Drunkard ; and 
you  will  soon  be  ragged  and  pennyless. 

If  you  would  wish  to  starve  your  family,  be  a Drunkard ; 
for  that  will  consume  the  means  of  their  support. 

If  you  would  be  imposed  on  by  knaves,  be  a Drunkard  ; 
for  that  will  make  their  task  easy. 

VOL.  V. 


2 THE  REWARDS  OF  DRUNKENNESS. 

If  you  would  wish  to  be  robbed,  be  a Drunkard  ; which 
will  enable  the  thief  to  do  it  with  more  safety. 

If  you  would  wish  to  blunt  your  senses,  be  a Drunkard ; 
and  you  will  soon  be  more  stupid  than  an  ass. 

If  you  would  become  a fool,  be  a Drunkard  ; and  you 
will  soon  lose  your  understanding. 

If  you  wish  to  unfit  yourself  for  rational  intercourse,  be 
a Drunkard ; for  that  will  accomplish  your  purpose. 

If  you  are  resolved  to  kill  yourself,  be  a Drunkard  ; that 
behig  a sure  mode  of  destruction. 

If  you  would  expose  both  your  folly  and  secrets,  be 
a Di’unkard  ; and  they  ■will  soon  be  made  known. 

If  you  think  you  are  too  strong,  be  a Dmnkard ; and 
you  will  soon  be  subdued  by  so  powerful  an  enemy. 

If  you  would  get  rid  of  your  money  ufithout  knowing 
how,  be  a Drunkard  ; and  it  will  vanish  insensiblv. 

If  you  would  have  no  resource  when  past  labor  but  a 
workhouse,  be  a Drunkard ; and  you  will  be  unable  to  pro- 
vide any. 

If  you  are  determined  to  expel  all  comfort  from  your 
house,  be  a Drunkard ; and  you  will  soon  do  it  effectuallv. 

If  you  would  be  always  under  strong  suspicion,  be  a 
Drunkard  ; for,  little  as  you  think  it,  all  agree  that  those 
who  steal  from  themselves  and  families  will  rob  others. 

If  you  would  be  reduced  to  the  necessity  of  shunning 
your  creditors,  be  a Drunkard ; and  you  will  soon  have  rea- 
son to  prefer  the  by-paths  to  the  public  streets. 

If  you  would  be  a dead  weight  on  the  community,  and 
“ cumber  the  ground,”  be  a Drunkard  ; for  that  will  render 
you  useless,  helpless,  burdensome,  and  expensive. 

If  5mu  Avould  be  a nuisance,  be  a Drunkard  ; for  the 
approach  of  a Drunkard  is  like  that  of  a dunghill. 

If  you  would  be  hated  by  your  family  and  friends,  be  a 
Drunkard  ; and  you  will  soon  be  more  than  disagreeable. 

If  3'ou  would  be  a pest  to  society,  be  a Drimkard ; and 
you  will  be  avoided  as  infectious. 

If  you  do  not  wish  to  have  your  faults  reformed,  continue 
to  be  a Drunkard ; and  you  will  not  care  for  good  advice 

If  you  would  smash  windows,  break  the  peace,  get  your 
bones  broken,  tumble  under  carts  and  hoi-ses,  and  be  locked 
up  in  watch-houses,  be  a Drunkard ; and  it  will  be  strange 
if  you  do  not  succeed. 


THE  REWARDS  OF  DRUNKExXNESS. 


3 


If  you  wish  all  your  prospects  in  life  to  be  clouded,  be  a 
Drunkard  ; and  they  will  soon  be  dark  enough. 

If  you  would  destroy  your  body,  be  a Drunkard ; as 
drunkenness  is  the  mother  of  disease. 

If  you  mean  to  ruin  your  soul,  be  a Drunkard  ; that  you 
may  be  excluded  from  heaven. 

Finally,  if  you  are  determined  to  be  utterly  destroyed, 
in  estate,  body,  and  soul,  be  a Drunkard  ; and  you  will  soon 
know  that  it  is  impossible  to  adopt  a more  efl’ectual  means 
to  accomplish  your — END. 

“ All  the  crimes  on  earth,”  says  Lord  Bacon,  “ do  not 
destroy  so  many  of  the  human  race,  nor  alienate  so  much 
property,  as  drunkenness.^’ 

Drunkenness  expels  reason — drowns  the  memory — de- 
faces beauty — diminishes  strength — inflames  the  blood — 
causes  internal,  external,  and  incurable  wounds — is  a witch 
to  the  senses,  a devil  to  the  soul,  a thief  to  the  purse — the 
beggar’s  companion,  the  wife’s  woe,  and  children’s  sorrow — 
makes  a strong  man  weak,  and  a wise  man  a fool.  He  is 
worse  than  a beast,  and  is  a self-murderer,  who  drinks  to 
others’  good  health,  and  robs  himself  of  his  own.  He  is 
worse  than  a beast,  for  no  animal  will  designedly  intoxicate 
itself ; but  a drunkard  swallows  his  liquor,  well  knowing  the 
condition  to  which  it  will  reduce  him,  and  that  these  draughts 
will  deprive  him  of  the  use  of  his  reason,  and  render  him 
worse  than  a beast.  By  the  effects  of  liquor  his  evil  pas- 
sions and  tempers  are  freed  from  restraint ; and,  while  in  a 
state  of  intoxication,  he  commits  actions  which,  when  sober, 
he  would  have  shuddered  to  have  thought  of.  Many  an 
evil  deed  has  been  done,  many  a murder  has  been  commit- 
ted, when  those  who  did  these  things  were  intoxicated. 

Tremble,  then,  if  ever  you  taste  the  intoxicating  draught. 
Reflect,  before  you  put  the  cup  to  your  lips.  Remember 
that  you  are  forming  a habit  which  will  lead  on  to  the  com- 
mission of  every  crime  to  which  the  propensities  of  your 
nature,  rendered  violent  by  indulgence,  can  urge  you.  Be- 
fore you  are  aware,  you  may  find  yourself  awaking  from  a 
fit  of  intoxication,  guilty  of  offences  against  the  laws  of  your 
country  which  will  draw  down  just  vengeance  irpon  your 
head ; abhorring  yourself,  and  an  abhorrence  in  the  sight 
of  heaven. 


4 


THE  REWARDS  OF  DRUNKENNESS. 


Drunkenness,  persisted  in,  ■will  assuredly  destroy  your 
soul,  and  consign  you  to  everlasting  miserj’.  Hear  ■what 
the  word  of  God  declares. 

“A^wake,  ye  drunkards,  and  -weep.”  Joel  1 : 5. 

“ Who  hath  -woe  ? ■who  hath  sorro^w  ? Avho  hath  conten- 
tion ? ■who  hath  ■wounds  ■without  cause  ? They  that  tarry 
long  at  the  wine,  they  that  go  to  seek  mixed  wine.  Look 
not  thou  upon  the  wine  ; at  the  last  it  biteth  like  a serpent, 
and  stingeth  like  an  adder.”  Prov.  23  ; 29-32. 

“ Woe  unto  them  that  rise  up  in  the  morning,  that  they 
may  follow  strong  drink  ; that  continue  imtil  night,  till  wine 
inflame  them  !”  Isa.  5 : 11. 

“ Woe  unto  them  that  are  mighty  to  drink  wine,  and 
men  of  strength  to  mingle  strong  drink.  Isa.  5 : 22. 

“ The  works  of  the  flesh  are  manifest,  which  are  these : 
uncleanness,  murders,  drunkenness,  revellings,  and  such 
like  ; of  the  which  I tell  you,  that  they  which  do  such  things 
shall  not  inherit  the  kingdom  of  God.”  Gal.  5 : 19,  21. 

These  are  awful  declarations,  and  they  will  certainly  be 
fulfilled  upon  him  who  continues  to  delight  in  drunkenness  ; 
he  cannot  enjoy  the  love  of  God,  he  will  not  be  received 
into  heaven. 

Separate  yourself,  then,  utterly  from  this  ensnaring  sin. 
“ Touch  not ; taste  not ; handle  not.”  In  EXTIRE  AB- 
STIXEXCE  is  your  only  safety.  Thij^  persevered  in,  you 
shall  never  fall.  Wherever  and  however  the  temptation  is 
presented,  “ avoid  it — turn  from  it,  and  pass  away.”  Turn 
also  from  every  sin.  “ Commit  your  way  unto  the  Lord,” 
and  he  will  “ direct  your  paths.”  A glorious  provision  is 
made  for  your  salvation,  through  the  atoning  blood  of  Christ. 
“ God  so  loved  the  world,  that  he  gave  his  only-begotten 
Son,  that  ■whosoever  helieveth  in  him  should  not  perish,  but 
have  everlasting  life.”  John  3 : 16.  Commit  your  soul 
and  your  all  to  him.  He  ■will  guide  you  through  life,  enable 
you  to  vanquish  every  foe,  and  crown  you  with  victory  in 
heaven. 


PUBLISHED  BY  THE  AMERICAN  TRACT  SOCIETY. 


THE 


WELL-CONDUCTED  FARM. 


Mr.  B , a respectable  farmer  in  Massachusetts,  came, 

a number  of  years  ago,  into  the  possession  of  a fanri  of  about  six 
hundred  acres.  On  this  farm  he  employed  eight  or  ten  men. 
These  men  were  in  the  habit,  and  had  been  for  years,  of  taking 
each  a portion  of  ardent  spirit,  when  they  labored,  every  day 
They  had  grown  up  in  the  practice  of  taking  it,  and  the  idea 
was  fixed  in  their  minds  that  they  could  not  do  without.  It 
was  the  common  opinion  in  the  place,  that,  for  laboring  men, 
who  had  to  work  hard,  some  ardent  spirit  was  necessary.  Mr. 
B for  a time  followed  the  common  practice,  and  furnish- 

ed his  men  with  a portion  of  spirit  daily.  But,  after  much  at- 
tentive observation,  and  mature  reflection,  he  became  deeply 
impressed  with  the  conviction  that  the  practice  was  not  only 
useless,  hut  hurtful.  He  became  convinced  that  it  tends 

Temp.  Vol.  3 


2 


THE  WELL-CONDUCTED  FARM. 


to  lead  men  to  intemperance ; to  undermine  their  constitu- 
tions ; and  to  sow  the  seeds  of  deaths  temporal  and  eternal. 
And  he  felt  that  he  could  not  be  justified  in  continuing  to 
cultivate  his  farm  by  means  of  a practice  which  was  ruin- 
ing the  bodies  and  souls  of  his  fellow-men.  He  therefore 
called  his  men  together,  and  told  them,  in  a kind  and  faith- 
ful manner,  what  were  his  convictions.  He  told  them  that 
he  was  perfectly  satisfied  that  the  practice  of  taking  ardent 
spirits  was  not  only  needless,  but  hurtful — that  it  tended 
to  weaken  and  destroy  both  the  body  and  mind ; and  that 
he  could  not,  consistently  with  his  duty,  be  instrumental  in 
continuing  a practice  which  he  had  no  doubt  tended  to 
destroy  them  both  for  this  world  and  the  world  to  come. 
He  therefore,  from  that  time,  should  furnish  them  with  no 
ardent  spirits. 

One  of  them  said  that  he  could  not  work  without  it ; 
and  if  he  did  not  furnish  them  with  it,  he  would  not  stay 

with  him.  “Very  well,”  said  Mr.  B ; “hand  me  your 

bill,  and  be  off.”  The  man  replied,  that  he  presumed  all 

the  others  would  leave  him.  “Very  well,”  said  Mr.  B ; 

“ tell  them,  any  of  them  who  choose  to  leave — all  of  them, 
if  they  choose  to  go — to  hand  in  their  bills,  and  they  shall 
have  their  money  to-night.  If  they  stay,  however,  they 
shall  have  nourishing  food  and  drink,  at  any  time,  and  in 
any  abundance  which  they  wish ; and  at  the  close  of  the 
year  each  one  shall  have  twelve  dollars,  that  is,  one  dollar 
a month,  in  addition  to  his  wages.  But  I shall  furiush  no 
spirits  of  any  kind,  neither  shall  I have  it  taken  by  men 
in  my  employment.  I had  rather  my  fann  would  grow  up 
to  weeds,  than  be  cultivated  by  means  of  so  pernicious  a 
practice  as  that  of  taking  ardent  spirits.”  However,  none 
of  the  men  left,  except  that  one.  And  when  he  saw  that 
all  the  others  concluded  to  stay,  he  came  back,  and  said, 
that  as  the  others  had  concluded  to  stay,  and  do  without 
rum,  he  believed  that  he  could,  and  he  should  be  glad  to 

stay,  too,  if  Mr.  B had  no  objection.  But  he  told  him. 

No,  he  did  not  wish  him  to  stay ; he  would  make  of  him  an 


THE  WELL-CONDUCTED  FARM. 


3 


example,  and  he  must  go.  So  he  departed.  The  rest  went 
to  work,  and  he  furnished  them  with  no  spirits  from  that 
time  through  the  season.  Yet  his  work,  he  said,  was  done 
“ with  less  trouble,  in  a better  manner,  and  in  better  season, 
than  ever  before.”  Some  of  his  men,  however,  he  found, 
when  they  went  abroad,  did  take  ardent  spirits.  They  some- 
times procured  it  at  the  tavern-,  or  a store ; and  in  some 
instances  took  it  secretly,  while  on  his  farm.  The  evil, 
therefore,  although  greatly  lessened,  was  not  entirely  done 
away. 

When  he  came  to  hire  men  again,  he  let  it  he  known 
that  he  did  not  wish  to  hire  any  man  who  was  not  willing 
to  abstain  entirely,  and  at  all  times,  from  the  use  of  ardent 
spirits.  His  neighbors  told  him  that  he  could  not  hire 
men  on  those  conditions  ; that  men  could  not  he  found 
who  would  do  without  rum,  especially  in  haying  and  har- 
vestinsr.  Well,  he  said,  then  he  would  not  hire  them  at 
all.  His  farm  should  grow  up  to  weeds.  As  to  cultivating 
it  by  the  help  of  rum,  he  would  not.  By  allowing  men  in 
his  employment,  and  for  whose  conduct  he  was  in  a meas- 
ure responsible,  to  take  ardent  spirits,  he  should  he  lend- 
ing his  influence  to  continue  a practice,  or  he  should  at 
least  be  conniving  at  a practice,  which  was  “ destroying 
more  lives,  making  more  mothers  widows,  and  children 
orphans,  than  famine,  pestilence,  and  sword : a practice 
which  was  destroying  by  thousands,  and  tens  of  thousands, 
not  only  the  bodies,  but  the  souls  of  men,  rendering  them, 
and  their  children  after  them,  wretched  for  this  world,  and 
the  world  to  come.  “ Ho,”  said  he,  “ I will  clear  my  hands 
of  this  enormous  guilt.  I will  not  by  practice  encourage, 
or  by  silence,  or  having  men  in  my  employment  who  take 
ardent  spirits,  connive  at  this  deadly  e\dl.”  However,  he 
found  no  difficulty  in  hiring  men,  and  of  the  best  kind. 
And  when  his  neighbors  saw,  that  by  giving  one  dollar  a 
month  more  than  others,  he  could  hire  as  many  men  as  he 
pleased,  they  gave  up  that  objection.  But  they  said,  it 
was  bad  policy ; for  the  men  would  not  do  so  much  work, 


4 


TIIE  WELL-CONDUCTED  FAEJI. 


and  he  would,  in  the  end,  be  a loser.  But  he  told  them 
that,  although  they  might  not  at  first  do  quite  so  much,  he 
presumed  that  they  would  in  the  end  do  more.  But  if 
they  should  not,  only  let  them  do,  said  he,  what  they  easily 
can,  and  I shall  be  satisfied.  My  Maker  does  not  require 
of  me  any  more  than  I can  do  without  rum,  (for  he  used 
no  ardent  spirits  himself)  and  I shall  require  no  more  of 
them.  His  men  went  to  work.  And  his  business  prosper- 
ed exceedingly.  His  men  were  remarkably  unifonn  in  their 
temper  and  deportment ; still,  and  peaceable. 

He  found  them  every  day  alike,  and  he  could  always 
safely  trust  them.  What  he  expected  to  have  done,  he 
found  was  done,  in  good  season,  and  in  the  best  manner. 
His  men  never  made  so  few  mistakes,  had  so  few  disputes 
among  themselves ; they  never  injured  and  destroyed  so 
few  tools,  found  so  little  fault  wdth  their  manner  of  living, 
or  were,  on  the  whole,  so  pleasant  to  one  another,  and  to 
their  employer.  The  men  appeared,  more  than  ever  be- 
fore, like  brethren  of  the  same  family,  satisfied  with  their 
business,  contented,  and  happ)L 

At  the  close  of  the  year,  one  of  them  came  to  Mr. 

B , and,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  said,  “ Sir,  I thought 

that  you  were  very  hard,  in  keeping  us  from  drinking  lum. 
I had  always  been  accustomed  to  it,  and  I thought  that  I 
could  not  do  without  it.  And  for  the  first  three  months,” 
said  he,  “ it  was  hard,  very  bal'd.  I had  such  a caving  in 
here” — putting  his  hands  up  to  his  side — “I  had  such  a 
desperate  caving  in  here,  that  I thought  I should  die.  But, 
as  you  gave  us  good  wages,  and  good  pay,  and  the  rest 
resolved  to  stand  it  without  rum,  I thought  I would. 

“And  now,”  said  he,  “I  am  well  and  happy.  I work 
with  ease,  sleep  sweetly,  and  when  I get  up  in  the  morn- 
ing, instead  of  having,  as  I used  to,  my  mouth  and  throat  ” 
— to  use  his  own  words — “so  full  of  colnoehs,  as  to  be  sjnt- 
ting  cotton  wool  all  the  time,  my  mouth  and  throat  are 
clear  as  a ivhistle.  I feel  active,  have  a good  appetite,  and 
can  eat  anv  thing. 


THE  WELL-CONDUCTED  FAKIVL 


5 


“ Formerly,  wlien  I worked  hard,  I was  at  night  tired, 
and  could  not  sleep.  When  I got  up  in  the  morning  I was 
so  sore  and  stiff,  so  filled  rip  in  my  throat,  and  my  appetite 
was  so  gone,  that  I could  do  nothing  till  I had  taken  a glass 
of  rum  and  molasses.  I then  stood  it  till  breakfast.  But 
my  breakfast  did  not  relish,  and  what  I.  took  did  not  seem 
to  nourish  me.  Soon  after  I got  to  work  I was  so  hollow 
and  so  tired,  that  I felt  desperate  ugly  till  1 1 o’clock.  Then 
I took  a new  vamper.  And  by  the  strength  of  that  I got 
on  till  dinner.  Then  I must  have  a little  more  to  give  me 
an  appetite.  At  thi’ee  o’clock  in  the  afternoon  I must  have 
recourse  ” — these  were  his  words — “ to  the  hair  of  the  same 
dog,  to  keep  up  my  sinking  spirits.  And  thus  I got  along 
till  night.  Then  I must  have  a little  to  sharpen  appetite 
for  supper.  And  after  supper  I could  not  sleep,  till  I had 
taken  another  nightcap. 

“Thus  I continued,”  said  he,  “year  after  year,  under- 
mining a constitution  which  was  naturally  very  robust ; and 
growing  worse  and  worse,  until  I came  under  your  wise  and 
excellent  regulations.  And  now,”  said  he,  “ I am  cured.  I 
am  cured.  I can  now  do  more  labor  than  when  I took 
spirits,  without  half  the  fatigue,  and  take  nothing  stronger 
than  pure  cold  water.  If  a man  would  give  me  the  same 
wages  that  you  do,  and  a dollar  a day  in  addition,  to  return 
to  the  practice  of  drinking  rum,  I would  laugh  at  him.” 
All  this  was  the  free,  spontaneous  effusion  of  his  own  mind, 
in  view  of  the  great  change  wrought  in  his  feelings  by  leav- 
ing off  entirely  the  use  of  ardent  spirits. 

Another  of  the  workmen  came  to  Mr.  B and  said, 

that  he  had  found  it  very  hard  to  do  without  rum  at  first ; 
but  he  could  now  freely  say,  that  he  never  enjoyed  so  good 
health,  or  felt  so  well,  as  he  did  then.  He  said  that  in  cold 
weather  in  the  winter,  and  after  chopping  all  day  in  the 
woods,  especially  if  exposed  to  rains,  or  if  his  feet  were  wet, 
he  had  for  a long  tirne  been  accustomed  to  a very  bad  rheu- 
matism, and  at  night  to  a dreadful  headache.  He  took 
spirits  temperately,  and  he  supposed  it  was  necessary  to 


fi  TItE  WELL-CONDUCTED  FAR.\L 

guard  him  against  these  evils.  Still  he  suffered  them  ; and 
he  found  nothing  that  Avould  prevent  them.  But  since  he 
had  left  off  entirely  the  use  of  spirits,  he  had  had  no  rheuma- 
tism, and  been  entirely  free  from  the  headache. 

Another  of  the  workmen  said  he  thought  at  first  that  he 
could  do  very  well  without  spirits  three  quarters  of  the 
}mar ; but  that,  in  haying  and  hanmsting,  he  should  want  a 
little.  But  he  had  found  that  a dish  of  bread  and  milk,  or 
some  other  nourishing  food,  at  11  o’clock,  answered  his 
purpose  at  all  times  jqst  as  well  as  grog,  and  he  thought  a 
little  better.  And  as  Up  was  now  entirely  free  from  the  habit 
of  taking  spirits,  he  would  not  on  any  account  be  placed 
in  a situation  where  he  should  be  tempted  to  renew  it. 

Such  were  the  feelings  of  men  who  had  always  been 
accustomed  to  the  practice  of  taking  spirits,  till  they  came 

into  Mr.  B ’s  employment,  and  who  afterwards  had  not 

taken  a drop.  They  had  tried  both  sides,  and  had  found, 
by  experience,  that  the  practice  of  taking  ardent  spirits  is 
utterly  useless  ; nay,  that  it  is  positively  hurtful.  It  was 
their  united  testimony,  that  they  enjoyed  better  health, 
were  more  happy,  could  do  more  work,  and  with  less  fa- 
tigue, than  when  they  took  spirits. 

They  said,  to  be  sure,  that  they  foimd  it  hard  to  do 
without  it  at  first.  And  so  would  a man  who  had  been  in 
the  habit  of  taking  laudanum,  or  any  poison,  that  was  not 
fatal,  but  was  stimulating  and  pleasant  to  the  taste,  however 
destructive  it  might  be  in  the  end  to  his  constitution.  But 
after  they  had  freed  themselves  from  the  habit  of  taking 
spirits,  they  found  no  inconvenience ; but  were  in  all  respects 
better  than  they  were  before.  And  they  acknowledged  that 
they  were  exceedingly  indebted  to  him,  who,  by  his  wise 
regulations,  had  been  the  means  of  improving  their  condition. 
The  following  were  some  of  the  advantages  to  them. 

1.  They  had  a better  appetite,  partook  of  their  food 
with  a keener  relish,  and  it  was  more  nourishing  to  them 
than  before. 


THE  WELL  CONDUCTED  FARM. 


7 


2.  Tliey  possessed  much  greater  vigor  and  activity,  both 
of  body  and  mind. 

3.  They  performed  the  same  labor  with  much  greater 
ease ; and  were  in  a great  measure  free  from  that  lassitude 
and  fatigue  to  which  they  were  before  accustomed. 

4.  They  had  greater  wages,  and  they  laid  up  a much 
greater  portion  of  what  they  had.  Before,  numbers  used 
to  spend  a great  portion  of  their  wages  in  scenes  of  amuse- 
ment and  dissipation.  Now,  they  have  no  inclination  to 
frequent  such  scenes.  The  consequence  is,  they  lay  up 
more  money.  They  are,  also,  more  serious  in  their  deport- 
ment, spend  more  of  their  leisure  time  in  useful  reading, 
much  oftener  peruse  the  Scriptures,  and  attend  public  wor- 
ship ; and  they  are  more  attentive  to  all  the  means  of  grace. 
In  a word,  they  are  more  likely  to  become  useful  and  happy 
in  this  life,  and  to  be  prepared  for  lasting  blessedness  in  the 
life  to  come. 

5.  Their  example  Avill  be  more  likely  to  be  useful  to 
those  around  them ; and  that  for  both  worlds. 

The  following  ai'e  some  of  the  advantages  to  their  em- 
ployer. 

1.  The  men,  he  says,  in  the  course  of  the  year,  do  more 
Avork,  in  a better  manner,  and  at  a much  less  expense  of 
tools. 

2.  He  can  now  Avith  much  greater  ease  have  a place  for 
every  thing,  and  every  thing  in  its  place. 

3.  When  a stone  has  fallen  from  the  Avail  it  is  noAV  laid 
up,  as  the  men  are  passing  by,  without  his  mentioning  it. 
The  gates  are  locked,  and  the  bars  put  up ; so  that  the 
cattle  do  not,  as  before,  get  in  and  destroy  the  crops. 

4.  His  summer  work  is  done  in  such  season,  that  earth, 
loam,  etc.,  is  carted  into  the  yard  in  the  fall,  instead  of 
being  carted  in  in  the  spring,  as  before.  The  consequence 
is,  when  carried  out  it  is  richer,  and  renders  the  farm  more 
productive. 

5.  Hi&  barns,  in  winter,  are  kept  clean,  and  less  fodder 


8 


THE  WELL  CONDUCTED  FARJI. 


is  wasted.  The  cattle  and  horses  are  daily  curried,  and 
appear  in  better  order. 

6.  When  his  men  go  into  the  forests,  instead,  as  before, 
of  cutting  down  the  nearest,  thriftiest,  and  largest  trees, 
they  cut  those  that  are  decayed,  crooked,  and  not  likely  to 
grow  any  better ; pick  up  those  that  are  blown  down,  and 
thus  leave  the  forests  in  a better  state. 

7.  The  men  ai-e  more  uniform,  still,  and  peaceable;  are 
less  trouble  in  the  house,  and  more  contented  with  their 
manner  of  living. 

8.  At  morning  and  evening  prayer,  they  are  more  ready 
than  before  to  attend,  and  in  season ; appearing  to  esteem 
it  not  only  a duty,  but  a privilege  and  a pleasure  to  be 
present,  and  unite  with  the  family  in  the  daily  worship  of 
God. 

9.  On  the  Sabbath,  instead  of  'udshing,  as  before,  to  stay 
at  home,  or  to  spend  the  day  in  roving  about  the  fields, 
rivers,  and  forests,  they  choose  statedly  and  punctually  to 
attend  public  worship.  In  a word,  their  whole  deportment, 
both  at  home  and  abread,  is  improved,  and  to  a greater 
extent  than  any,  without  witnessing  it,  can  well  imagine. 

All  these  and  many  more  advantages  resulted  from  their 
abstaining  entirely,  and  at  all  times,  from  the  use  of  ardent 
spirits. 

Nor  were  the  benefits  confined  to  them  and  their  em- 
ployer. Some  of  his  neighbors,  witnessing  the  complete 
success  of  his  system,  have  themselves  adopted  it.  When 

Mr.  B Avent  into  that  part  of  the  country,  many  of  the 

farmers  in  his  neighborhood  Avere  in  debt.  Their-  farms 
Avere  mortgaged,  some  for  8300,  some  for  $500,  and  some 
for  $1000,  or  more.  They  complained  much  of  hard  times, 
especially  for  farmers. 

kir.  B told  them  that  so  long  as  they  contimied  to 

drink  rum,  they  must  expect  hard  times ; for  it  was  no 
profit,  but  a great  expense,  and  in  more  Avays  than  they 
imagined.  They  came  to  him  to  borrow  mou^  to  save 


THE  WELL-CONDUCTEH  FARM. 


y 


their  farms  from  attachment.  But  he  told  them,  No.  It 
will  do  men  who  continue  to  drink  rum  no  good  to  have 
money.  Nay,  it  will  be  to  them  an  evil.  The  sooner  their 
property  is  gone,  and  they  have  nothing  with  which  to  buy 
rum,  the  better.  For  then  they  will  do  less  mischief  than 
if  they  have  money,  and  continue  to  drink  rum.  But,  said 
he,  if  you  will  leave  off  the  use  of  spirits,  and  not  take  a 
drop  for  three  months,  I will  lend  you  money,  and  you  may 
keep  it,  by  paying  the  interest,  as  long  as  you  continue  to 
take  no  ardent  spirits.  But  when  I learn  that  you  begin  to 
take  it,  I shall  call  for  the  money.  Some  went  away  in 

disD’ust.  Others  said.  As  Mr.  B can  do  without  rum, 

why  cannot  we  ? and  if  we  can,  it  will  be  a great  saving  of 
expense.  They  made  the  experiment,  and  found  that  they 
could,  without  the  least  inconvenience,  do  without  it.  After 

a few  mouths,  they  made  known  to  Mr.  B the  result ; 

and  he  helped  them  to  as  much  money  as  they  needed. 
They  continued  to  do  without  spirits,  and  they  had  none 
used  by  men  in  their  employment.  Their  business  began 
to  prosper,  and  their  prospects  to  brighten.  Their  debts 
are  now  paid,  and  their  farms  free  from  all  incumbrance 
The  times  with  them  have  altered,  and  they  are  now  thriving, 
respectable,  and  useful  members  of  the  community. 

Others,  who  a few  years  ago  were  in  no  worse  a con- 
dition than  they,  but  who  continued  the  practice  of  drink- 
ing spirits,  have  lost  their  farms ; lost  their  reputation  ; 
lost  their  health,  and  eventually  their  lives ; and  there  is 
reason  to  fear,  their  souls.  By  the  temperate  but  habitual 
use  of  spirits,  they  formed  an  intemperate  appetite.  This  at 
first  was  occasionally,  and  then  habitually  indulged ; and 
they  were  ruined  for  both  worlds.  The  evil  may  extend  to 
their  children,  and  children’s  children. 

But  those  who  have  entirely  relinquished  the  use  of 
spirits,  until  the  desire  for  it  is  removed,  have  experienced 
a wonderful  transformation  in  their  feelings,  their  conduct, 
and  their  prospects.  And  the  change  is  visible  not  only  in 
them,  but  their  families,  and  all  their  concerns.  Their 


10 


THE  WELL-CONDUCTED  FARM. 


windows  are  not  broken  out  as  before ; nor  tbeir  gates  and 
garden-fences  falling  down.  The  kitchen  does  not  smoke 
as  it  used  to  do,  because  they  keep  it  more  clean,  hare  drier 
and  better  wood,  and  lay  it  on  the  fire  in  a better  manner. 
The  wife  does  not  scold  as  she  once  did,  because  she  is  well 
provided  for,  is  treated  kindly,  and  has  encouragement  to 
labor.  The  children  are  not  now  in  rags,  but  are  comfort- 
ably and  decently  clad ; they  are  obedient,  respectful,  and 
mannerly ; and  appear  to  be  growing  up  in  the  nurture  and 
admonition  of  the  Lord.  In  short,  they  appear  almost  Uke 
a new  race  of  beings.  And  if  they  should  never  again  adopt 
the  practice  of  taking  ardent  spirits,  there  is  vastly  more 
reason  than  before,  to  hope  that  they  will  be  led  by  the 
w'ord  and  Spirit  of  God  to  such  a course  of  conduct  as  will 
greatly  increase  their  happiness  and  usefulness  on  earth, 
and  be  the  means  of  preparing  them,  through  grace,  for  the 
everlasting  joys  of  heaven. 

Should  each  individual  in  our  country  adopt  the  same 
course,  the  following  are  some  of  the  advantages  which 
would  result  from  it. 

1.  They  would  enjoy  better  health,  be  able  to  perfomi 
more  labor,  and  would  live  to  a greater  age. 

2.  The  evils  of  intemperance  would  soon  be  done  away ; 
for  all  who  are  now  intemperate,  and  continue  so,  will  soon 
be  dead,  and  no  others  will  be  found  to  succeed  them. 

3.  There  will  be  a sawng  every  year  of  more  than 
thirty  millions  of  dollars,  which  are  now  e.vpended  for 
ardent  spirits.  There  will  be  a saving  of  more  than  two- 
thirds  of  all  the  expense  of  supporting  the  poor,  which,  in 
Massachusetts  alone,  would  amount  to  more  than  §600,000 
annually.  And  there  would  be  a saving  of  all  that  idle- 
ness and  dissipation  which  intemperance  occasions,  and 
of  the  expense  of  more  than  two-thirds  of  all  the  criminal 
prosecutions  in  the  land.  In  one  of  our  large  cities,  in 
Avhich  there  were  one  thousand  prosecutions  for  crimes, 
more  than  eight  hundred  of  them  were  found  to  have  sprung 
from  the  use  of  ardent  spirits. 


THE  WELL-CONDUCTED  FARM. 


II 


4.  There  would  be  a saving  of  a vast  portion  of  sick- 
ness ; and  of  the  lives  probably  of  thirty  thousand  persons 
every  year. 

Let  these  four  considerations  be  added  together,  and 
traced  in  their  various  bearings  and  consequences  upon  the 
temporal  and  eternal  welfare  of  menj  and  then  let  each 
individual  say,  whether,  in  view  of  all  the  evils  connected 
with  the  practice  of  taking  ardent  spirits,  he  can,  in  the 
sight  of  God,  be  justified  in  continuing  the  practice.  That 
it  is  not  necessary,  has  been  fully  proved.  No  one  thinks  it 
to  be  necessary,  except  those  who  use  it.  And  they  would 
not  think  so,  if  they  were  not  in  the  habit  of  using  it.  Let 
any  man  leave  off  entirely  the  use  of  ardent  spirits  for  only 
one  year,  and  he  will  find  by  his  own  experience  that  it  is 
not  necessary  or  useful.  The  fathers  of  New  England  did 
not  use  it,  nor  did  their  children.  They  were  never,  as  a 
body,  in  the  practice  of  taking  it.  And  yet  they  enjoyed 
better  health,  attained  to  a larger  stature,  and,  Avith  fewer 
comforts  of  life,  performed  more  labor,  endured  more 
fatigue,  and  lived,  upon  an  average,  to  a greater  age  than 
any  generation  of  their  descendants  Avho  have  been  in  the 
practice  of  taking  spirits.  As  it  was  not  necessary  for  the 
fathers  of  New  England,  it  is  certain  that  it  is  not  necessary 
for  their  descendants,  or  for  any  portion  of  our  inhabitants. 
Hundreds  of  healthy,  active,  respectable,  and  useful  men, 
who  now  do  not  use  it,  can  testify  that  it  is  not  necessary. 
And  this  will  be  the  testimony  of  every  one  who  will  only 
relinquish  entirely  the  use  of  it. 

It  is  by  the  temperate  and  habitual  use  of  ardent  spirits, 
that  intemperate  appetites  are  formed.  And  the  temperate 
use  of  it  cannot  be  continued,  Avithout,  in  many  cases,  form- 
ing intemperate  appetites ; and  after  they  are  formed,  mul- 
titudes will  be  destroyed  by  their  gratification. 

Natural  appetites,  such  as  are  implanted  in  our  consti- 
tution by  the  Author  of  nature,  do  not  hy  their  gratification 
increase  in  their  demands.  What  satisfied  them  years  ago, 
will  satisfy  them  noAv.  But  artificial  appetites,  Avhich  are 


12 


THE  WELL-CONDUCTED  FARM. 


forDied  by  the  wicked  practices  of  men,  are  constantly  in- 
creasing in  their  demands.  What  satisfied  them  once,  will 
not  satisfy  them  now.  And  what  satisfies  them  now,  will 
not  satisfy  them  in  future.  They  are  constantly  crying, 
“ Give,  give."  And  there  is  not  a man,  who  is  in  the  habit- 
ual use  of  ardent  spirits,  who  is  not  in  danger  of  dying  a 
drimkard.  Before  he  is  aware,  an  intemperate  appetite 
may  be  formed,  the  gratification  of  which  may  prove  his 
temporal  and  eternal  ruin.  And  if  the  practice  should  not 
come  to  this  result  with  regard  to  himself,  it  may  with 
regard  to  his  children,  and  children’s  children.  It  may 
with  regard  to  his  neighbors,  and  their  children.  It  may 
extend  its  baleful  influences  far  and  wide;  and  transmit 
them,  with  all  their  innumerable  e\Tls,  from  generation  to 
generation. 

Can,  then,  temperate,  sober  men  he  clear  from  guilt,  in 
continuing  a practice  which  is  costing  annually  more  than 
$30,000,000 ; increasing  more  than  threefold  the  poor- 
rates,  and  the  crimes  of  the  country ; imdermining  the 
health  and  constitution  of  its  inhabitants ; and  cutting  off 
annually  thirty  thousand  lives  ! 

There,  is  tremendous  guilt  somewhere.  And  it  is  a truth 
which  ought  to  press  with  overwhelming  force  upon  the 
mind  of  every  sober  man,  that  a portion  of  this  guilt  rests 
upon  every  one  wdio,  with  a knowledge  of  facts,  continues 
the  totally  unnecessary  and  awfully  pernicious  practice  of 
taking  ardent  spirits.  Each  individual  ought,  without  delay, 
in  view  of  eternity,  to  clear  himself,  and  neither  by  precept 
nor  example,  ever  again  encourage  or  even  connive  at  this 
deadly  evil. 


.ADDRESS 


ON 

THE  EFFECTS  OF  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


BY  JONATHAN  ELITTREDGE,  ESQ. 


Fellow-Citizens — That  intemperance,  in  our  country,  is 
a great  and  growing  evil,  all  are  ready  to  admit.  When  we 
look  abroad,  and  examine  into  the  state  of  society,  we  find  the 
number  of  those  who  are  in  the  constant  and  habitual  prac- 
tice of  an  excessive  use  of  ardent  spirits  to  he  alarming.  We 
see  the  effects  that  they  produce  among  our  friends  and  our 
neighbors,  but  the  evil  is  so  common,  and  it  is  so  fashionable 
to  drink,  and  I had  almost  said,  to  drink  to  excess,  that  the 
sight  of  it  has  lost  half  its  terror,  and  we  look  upon  an  intern-  ^ 
perate  man  without  those  feelings  of  disgust  and  abhorrence,! 
vsdiich  his  real  situation  and  character  are  calculated  to  pro- 
duce. This  is  the  natural  result  of  things.  The  mind  be- 
comes familiar  with  the  contemplation,  the  eye  accustomed 
VOL.  VI. 


2 


EFFECTS  OF  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


to  the  sight ; we  pay  but  little  attention  to  the  object — he 
passes  on — ^we  laugh  at  the  exhibition,  and  grow  callous 
and  mdifierent  to  the  guilt.  Our  pity  is  not  excited,  our 
hearts  do  not  ache  at  the  scenes  of  intoxication  that  are 
almost  daily  exhibited  aroimd  us.  But  if  for  a moment  we 
seriously  reflect  upon  the  real  situation  of  the  habitually 
intemperate ; if  we  call  to  mind  what  they  have  been — > 
what  they  now  are ; if  we  cast  our  eye  to  the  future,  and 
realize  what,  in  a few  years,  they  ■wdll  be  ; if  we  go  further, 
and  examine  into  the  state  of  their  families,  of  their  wives 
and  their  children,  we  shall  discover  a scene  of  miseiy'  and 
wretchedness  that  will  not  long  suffer  us  to  remain  cold, 
and  indifferent,  and  unfeeling. 

This  examination  we  can  all  make  for  ourselves.  We 
can  all  call  to  mind  the  case  of  some  individual,  whom  we 
have  known  for  years,  perhaps  from  his  infancy,  who  is  now 
a poor,  miserable  drunkard.  In  early  life  his  hopes  and 
prospects  were  as  fair  as  ours.  His  family  was  respectable, 
and  he  received  all  those  advantages  which  are  necessary, 
and  which  were  calculated  to  make  him  a useful  and  res- 
pectable member  of  society.  Perhaps  he"  Avas  our  school- 
fellow, and  our  boyhood  may  have  been  passed  in  his  com- 
pany. We  Avitnessed  the  first  buddings  of  liis  mental  poAvers, 
and  know  that  he  possessed  an  active,  enterprising  mind. 
He  grew  up  into  life  with  every  prospect  of  usefulness. 
He  entered  into  business,  and,  for  a while,  did  well.  His 
parents  looked  to  him  for  support  in  old  age,  and  he  was 
capable  of  affording  it.  He  accumulated  property,  and,  in 
a fcAv  years,  AAuth  ordinary  prudence  and  industry,  would 
have  been  independent.  He  married,  and  became  the  head 
of  a family,  and  the  father  of  children,  and  all  was  pros- 
perous and  happy  around  'him.  Had  he  continued  as  he 
beiran,  he  would  now  have  been  a comfort  to  his  friends,  and 
an  honor  to  the  community.  But  the  scene  quickly  changed. 


EFFECTS  OF  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


3 


He  grew  fond  of  ardent  spirits.  He  was  seen  at  the  store 
and  the  tavern.  By  degrees  he  became  intemperate.  He 
neglected  his  business,  and  his  affairs  went  to  gradual  decay. 
He  is  now  a drunkard,  his  property  is  wasted,  his  parents 
have  died  of  broken  hearts,  his  wife  is  pale  and  emaciated, 
his  children  ragged,  and  squalid,  and  ignorant.  He  is  the 
tenant  of  some  little  cabin  that  poverty  has  erected  to  house 
him  from  the  storm  and  the  tempest.  He  is  useless,  and 
worse  than  useless : he  is  a pest  to  all  around  him.  All  the 
feelings  of  his  nature  are  blunted;  he  has  lost  all  shame; 
he  procures  his  accustomed  supply  of  the  poison  that  con- 
sumes him ; he  staggers  through  mud  and  through  filth  to 
his  hut ; he  meets  a weeping  wife  and  starving  children ; 
he  abuses  them,  he  tumbles  into  his  straw,  and  he  rolls  and 
foams  like  a mad  brute,  till  he  is  able  to  go  again.  He  calls 
for  more  rum — he  repeats  the  scene  from  time  to  time,  and 
from  day  to  day,  till  soon  his  nature  faints,  and  he  becomes 
sober  in  death. 

Let  us  reflect,  that  this  guilty,  wretched  creature  had 
an  immortal  mind — he  was  like  us,  of  the  same  flesh  and 
blood — he  was  our  brother,  destined  to  the  same  eternity, 
created  by,  and  accountable  to,  the  same  God ; and  will,  at 
last,  stand  at  the  same  judgment-bar ; and  who,  amid  such 
reflections,  will  not  weep  at  his  fate — whose  eye  can  remain 
dry,  and  whose  heart  unmoved  ? 

This  is  no  picture  of  the  imagination.  It  is  a common 
and  sober  reality.  It  is  what  we  see  almost  every  day  of 
our  lives ; and  we  live  in  the  midst  of  such  scenes  and  such 
events.  With  the  addition  or  subtraction  of  a few  circum- 
stances, it  is  the  case  of  every  one  of  the  common  drunkards 
around  us.  They  have  not  completed  the  drama — they  are 
alive — but  they  are  going  to  death  with  rapid  strides,  as 
their  predecessors  have  already  gone.  Another  company 
of  immortal  minds  are  coming  on  to  fill  their  places,  as  they 


4 


EFraCTTS  OF  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


have  filled  others.  The  number  is  kept  good,  and  increas- 
ing. Shops,  as  nurseries,  are  established  in  every  town  and 
neighborhood,  and  drunkards  are  raised  up  by  the  score. 
They  are  made — they  are  formed — ^for  no  man  was  ever 
born  a drunkard — and,  I may  say,  no  man  was  ever  born 
with  a taste  for  ardent  spirits.  They  are  not  the  food  which 
nature  has  provided.  The  infant  may  cry  for  its  mother’s 
milk,  and  for  nourishing  food,  but  none  was  ever  heard  to 
cry  for  ardent  spirits.  The  taste  is  created,  and  in  some 
instances  may  be  created  so  young,  that,  perhaps,  many 
cannot  remember  the  time  when  they  were  not  fond  of 
them. 

And  here  permit  me  to  make  a few  remarks  upon  the 
formation,  or  creation  of  this  taste.  I will  begin  with  the 
infant,  and  I may  say  that  he  is  born  into  rum.  At  his 
birth,  according  to  custom,  a quantity  of  ardent  spirits  is 
provided ; they  are  thought  to  be  as  necessary  as  any  thing 
else.  They  are  considered  as  indispensable  as  if  the  child 
could  not  be  born  without  them.  The  father  treats  his 
friends  and  his  household,  and  the  mother  partakes  with  the 
rest.  The  infant  is  fed  with  them,  as  if  he  could  not  know 
the  good  things  he  is  heir  to  without  a taste  of  ardent  spirits. 
They  are  kept  on  hand,  and  often  given  to  him  as  medicine, 
especially  where  the  parents  are  fond  of  them  themselves. 
By  this  practice,  even  in  the  cradle,  his  disrehsh  for  ardent 
spirits  is  done  away.  He  grows  up,  and  during  the  first 
months  or  years  of  his  existence,  his  taste  and  his  appetite 
are  formed.  As  he  runs  about,  and  begins  to  take  notice 
of  passing  events,  he  sees  his  father  and  friends  drink ; 
he  partakes,  and  grows  fond  of  them.  In  most  families, 
ardent  spirits  are  introduced  and  used  on  every  extraordi- 
nary occasion.  Without  mentioning  many,  that  the  know- 
ledge and  experience  of  eveiy  man  can  supply,  I will  in- 
stance only  the  case  of  visitors. 


EFFECTS  OF  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


5 


A gentleman’s  friends  and  acquaintance  call  on  liim.  He 
is  glad  to  see  them,  and  fashion  and  custom  make  it  neces- 
sary for  him  to  invite  them  to  the  sideboard.  This  is  all 
done  in  his  best  style,  in  his  most  easy  and  affable  manner. 
The  best  set  of  drinking-vessels  are  brought  forward,  and 
make  quite  a display.  The  children  of  the  family  notice 
this  ; they  are  delighted  with  the  sight  and  the  exhibition  ; 
they  are  pleased  with  the  manners,  and  gratified  with  the 
conversation  of  the  visitors  on  the  occasion.  As  soon  as 
they  go  abroad,  they  associate  the  idea  of  drinking  with  all 
that  is  manly  and  genteel.  They  fall  into  the  custom,  and 
imitate  the  example  that  is  set  tliem.  Circumstances  and 
situations  expose  one  to  more  temptations  than  the  rest. 
Perhaps  his  resolution,  or  his  moral  principle,  is  not  so 
strong;  and  in  this  way,  one  out  of  twenty-five  of  those 
who  live  to  thirty  years  of  age  becomes  intemperate.  He 
becomes  so,  perhaps  not  from  any  uncommon  predisposition 
to  the  vice,  but  is  at  first  led  on  by  fashion,  and  custom, 
and  favorable  circumstances,  till  at  last  he  plunges  headlong 
into  the  vortex  of  dissipation  and  ruin.  Our  natural  dis- 
relish for  ardent  spirits  is  first  done  away — a relish  for  them 
is  then  created.  They  next  become  occasional,  next  habitual 
drinks.  The  habit  gains  strength,  till,  at  last,  the  daily 
drinker  is  swept  away  by  the  first  adverse  gale. 

It  is  on  this  principle,  and  let  the  fact  operate  as  a cau- 
tion to  those  who  need  it,  that  many  men  of  fair  unblemish- 
ed characters,  who  have  made  a temperate,  but  habitual  use 
of  ardent  spirits  in  days  of  prosperity,  have,  on  a change 
of  fortune,  become  notorious  drunkards ; while  those  who 
have  refrained  in  prosperity,  have  encountered  all  the  storms 
of  adversity  unhurt.  We  frequently  hear  a man’s  intem- 
perance attributed  to  a particular  cause,  as  loss  of  friends, 
loss  of  property,  disappointed  love,  or  ambition ; when,  if 
the  truth  were  known,  it  would  be  seen  that  such  men  had 


6 


EFFECTS  OF  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


jireviously  been  addicted  to  the  use  of  ardent  spirits,  per- 
haps not  immoderately,  and  fly  to  them  on  such  events  as 
their  solace  and  support.  Intemperance  requires  an  ap- 
prenticeship, as  much  as  law  or  physic ; and  a man  can  no 
/ more  become  intemperate  in  a month,  than  he  can  become 
a lawyer  or  a physician  in  a month.  Many  wonder  that 
certain  intemperate  men,  of  fine  talents,  noble  hearts,  and 
manly  feelings,  do  not  reform;  but  it  is  a greater  wonder 
that  any  ever  do.  The  evil  genius  of  intemperance  gradu- 
ally preys  upon  the  strength  of  both  body  and  mind,  till 
the  victim,  when  he  is  caught,  finds,  that  although  he  was 
a giant  once,  he  is  now  a child.  Its  influence  is  seductive 
and  insinuating,  and  men  are  often  irretrievably  lost  before 
they  are  aware  of  it.  Let  them  beware  how  they  take  the 
first  step.  It  is  by  degrees  that  men  become  intemperate. 
No  man  ever  became  so  all  at  once — it  is  an  impossibihty 
in  the  nature  of  things.  It  requires  time  to  harden  the 
heart,  to  do  away  shame,  to  blunt  the  moral  principle,  to 
deaden  the  intellectual  faculties,  and  temper  the  body.  The 
intemperance  of  the  day  is  the  natural  and  legitimate  con- 
sequence of  the  customs  of  society — of  genteel  and  respect- 
able society.  It  is  the  common  and  ordinar}-  use  of  ardent 
spirits,  as  practised  in  our  towns  and  villages,  that  has 
ah'eady  peopled  them  with  drunkards,  and  which,  unless 
checked,  will  fill  them  with  drunkards.  The  degree  of  in- 
temperance that  prevails,  and  the  quantity  of  ardent  spirits 
used,  in  our  most  respectable  towns,  is  almost  incredible. 
Perhaps  some  facts  on  this  subject  will  be  interesting. 

As  it  regards  the  degree  of  intemperance  that  prevails, 
it  may  be  safely  said,  that  one  out  of  a hundred  of  the  in- 
habitants of  this  part  of  the  country  is  a common  drunkard. 
By  a common  drunkard  is  meant  one  who  is  habitually  in- 
temperate, who  is  often  intoxicated,  and  who  is  restrained 
from  intoxication  neither  by  principle  nor  shame.  Of  such 


EFFECTS  OF  AllBENT  SPIRITS. 


7 


there  are  from  ten  to  twenty,  and  upward,  in  every  inhabited 
township.  There  is  another  class  who  are  intemperate,  and 
many  of  them  are  occasional  drunkards.  This  class  is  more 
numerous  than  the  former,  and  one  out  of  about  forty  of 
the  inhabitants  belongs  to  one  or  the  other  class.  Is  not 
this  a horrid  state  of  society  ? But  any  one  can  satisfy 
himself  of  the  truth  of  the  statement,  by  making  the  ex- 
amination himself. 

The  quantity  of  ardent  spirits  yearly  consumed  in  our 
towns,  varies  from  six  to  ten  thousand  gallons.  It  will  an- 
swer the  argument  I intend  to  draw  from  it,  to  state  the 
annual  quantity  in  this  town  to  be  six  thousand  gallons,  al- 
though short  of  the  truth.  This'  would  be  three  gallons  to 
every  inhabitant,  or  twenty- one  gallons  to  every  legal  voter. 
The  cost  of  this  liquid,  at  the  low  price  of  fifty  cents  per 
gallon,  will  be  three  thousand  dollars,  which  will  pay  all 
your  town,  county,  and  state  taxes  three  years,  and  is  as 
much  as  it  costs  you  to  support  and  maintain  all  your  priv- 
ileges, civil,  religious,  and  literary.  In  one  hundred  years 
you  would  drink  up  all  the  town  in  ardent  spirits ; or  it  would 
cost  just  such  a town  as  this,  with  all  your  farms,  stock,  and 
personal  property,  to  furnish  the  inhabitants  wfith  ardent 
spirits,  at  the  present  rate  of  drinking,  only  one  hundred 
years.  But  should  the  town  continue  to  drink  as  they  now 
do  for  fifty  years,  and  in  the  mean  time  suffer  the  cost  of 
the  spirits  to  accumulate  by  simple  interest  only,  the  whole 
town,  at  the  end  of  the  term,  could  not  pay  their  rum  bills. 
It  can  be  no  consolation  that  all  other  towns  would  be  alike 
insolvent. 

But  this  is  not  all.  Add  to  this  sum  the  loss  of  time 
and  the  waste  of  property  occasioned  by  it,  independent 
of  its  cost,  and  it  swells  the  amount  to  a monstrous  size. 
Here  you  have  an  account  of  the  cost  of  ardent  spirits,  cal- 
culated within  bounds.  At  present  there  is  a great  com- 


8 


EFFECTS  OF  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


plaint  about  the  pressure  of  the  times,  and  the  complaint 
is  doubtless  well-founded.  “Hard  times”  is  in  every  body’s 
mouth ; but  if  you  had  for  the  last  year  only  abstained 
from  the  use  of  ardent  spirits,  you  would  now  have  been 
independent  and  easy  in  your  circumstances.  Three  thou- 
sand dollars,  which  you  have  paid  for  them,  divided  among 
you,  would  pay  all  the  debts  you  are  called  upon  to  pay. 
I do  not  mean  that  no  one  wants  more  than  his  proportion 
of  this  sum,  but  there  are  some  who  want  none  of  it,  and 
who  would  circulate  it,  by  loan  or  otherwise,  among  those 
who  do  want  it,  and  it  would  reheve  the  whole  town  from 
the  distress  they  are  now  in. 

If  this  town  had  an  income  that  would  pay  all  its  taxes, 
3mu  would  consider  it  a matter  of  great  joy  and  congratu- 
lation. But  if  it  had  an  income  that  would  discharge  all  its 
taxes,  and  each  man,  instead  of  paying,  should  receive  the 
amount  he  now  pays,  you  would  consider  your  situation 
highly  prosperous  and  enviable.  Discontinue  the  use  of 
ardent  spirits,  and  you  have  it.  Use  none,  and  your  situ- 
ation, as  a town,  will  be  as  good,  yea,  far  better  than  if  you 
had  an  income  of  three  thousand  dollars  yearly,  to  be  di- 
vided among  its  inhabitants. 

If  we  carry  this  calculation  farther,  we  shall  find,  on 
the  principle  adopted,  that  there  are  ii^  the  state  of  Xew 
Hampshire  2,441  common  diimkards,  and  3,663  intempeiTite, 
or  occasional  drunkards — in  the  whole,  6,104;  and  that  the 
state  consumes  '732,483  gallons  of  ardent  spirits  annually, 
which  cost,  at  50  cents  a gallon,  $366,241.  In  the  United 
States,  there  would  be  96,3'79  common,  and  240,949  com- 
mon and  occasional  drunkards ; and  the  country  would  con- 
sume annually  28,913,887  gallons  of  ardent  spirits,  which 
cost,  at  50  cents  per  gallon,  $14,456,943 — as  much  as  it 
costs  to  support  the  whole  system  of  our  national  govern- 
ment, with  all  that  is  laid  out  in  improvements,  roads. 


EFFECTS  OF  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


9 


canals,  pensions,  etc.,  etc.,  and  is  more  than  one-half  of  the 
whole  revenue  of  the  Union  for  the  last  year.  It  must  be 
remembered  that  this  calculation  embraces  only  the  quantity 
and  cost  of  the  spirits,  and  is  on  the  supposition  that  this 
town  consumes  only  6,000  gallons,  at  50  cents  per  gallon, 
and  is  a fair  criterion  for  the  state  and  nation.  As  it  regards 
this  state,  it  would  be  safe  nearly  to  double  the  quantity, 
and  to  treble  the  cost  of  the  spirits ; and  as  it  regards  the 
nation,  it  would  be  safe  to  double  all  my  calculations.  In 
the  United  States,  the  quantity  of  ardent  spirits  yearly  con- 
sumed, may  be  fairly  estimated  at  60,000,000  gallons,  the 
cost  at  $30,000,000,  and  the  number  of  drunkards,  of  both 
kinds,  at  480,000. 

But  we  all  know,  and  it  is  common  to  remark,  that  the 
cost  of  the  article  is  comparatively  nothing  ; that  it  hardly 
makes  an  item  in  the  calculation  of  pernicious  consequences 
resulting  from  the  consumption  of  ardent  spirits.  Were  we 
to  embrace  the  usual  concomitants,  and  estimate  the  value 
of  time  lost,  the  amount  of  property  wasted,  of  disease  pro- 
duced, and  of  crime  committed,  where  ardent  spirits  are  the 
only  cause,  it  would  transcend  our  conceptions,  and  the 
imagination  would  be  lost  in  the  contemplation.  The  num- 
ber of  drunkards  in  the  United  States  would  make  an  army 
as  large  as  that  with  wdiich  Bonaparte  marched  into  Russia ; 
and  would  be  sufficient  to  defend  the  United  States  from 
the  combined  force  of  all  Europe.  Convert  our  drunkards 
into  good  soldiers,  and  one-tenth  of  them  would  redeem 
Greece  from  the  Turks.  Convert  them  into  apostles,  and 
they  would  Christianize  the  world.  And  what  are  they 
now  ? Strike  them  from  existence,  and  who  would  feel  the 
loss  ? Yes,  strike  them  from  existence,  and  the  United 
States  would  be  benefited  by  the  blow. 

But  this  is  not  half.  I cannot  tell  you  half  the  eflects 
of  ardent  spirits.  And  yet  ardent  spirits  are  said  to  be 

\'0L.  VI. 


10 


EFFECTS  OF  ARDENT  SPIRITS, 


useful  and  necessary.  It  is  false ! It  is  noMiing  but  the 
apology  that  love  of  them  renders  for  their  use.  There  are 
only  two  cases  in  which,  Dr.  Rush  says,  they  can  be  admin- 
istered without  injury,  and  those  are  cases  of  persons  like 
to  perish,  and  where  substitutes  may  be  applied  of  equal 
effect.  What  rational  man  would  use  them,  for  the  sake  of 
these  two  possible  cases  ? As  well  might  he  introduce  rat- 
tlesnakes among  his  children,  because  their  oil  is  good  in 
diseases  with  which  they  may  possibly  be  afflicted. 

The  number  of  persons  in  the  United  States  who  are 
mentally  deranged,  I do  not  know ; probably  there  are 
several  thousands ; and  it  is  ascertained,  that  one-third  of 
those  confined  in  the  insane  hospitals  of  Philadelphia  and 
New  York,  are  rendered  insane  by  the  use  of  ardent  spirits. 
Yes,  one-third  of  the  poor,  miserable  maniacs  of  our  land, 
are  made  such  by  the  use  of  that  which,  in  the  opinion  of 
some,  is  a veiy  useful  and  necessary  article,  and  which  they 
cannot  do  without.  This  article  has  deprived  one-third  of 
the  crazy  wretches  of  our  land  of  their  reason — of  that 
which  makes  them  men— of  the  very  image  of  their  God. 

Out  of  the  number  of  the  intemperate  in  the  United 
States,  ten  thousand  die  annually  from  the  effects  of  ardent 
spirits.  And  what  a death ! To  live  a drunkai'd  is  enough  ; 
but  to  die  so,  and  to  be  ushered  into  the  presence  of  your 
angry  Judge,  only  to  hear  the  sentence,  “Depart,  thou 
drunkard !”  Ah ! language  fails,  and  I leave  it  to  your 
imagination  to  fill  up  the  horrid  picture. 

This  death  happens  in  various  ways.  Some  are  killed 
instantly ; some  die  a lingering,  gradual  death ; some  com- 
mit suicide  in  fits  of  intoxication ; and  some  are  actually 
burnt  up. 

I read  of  an  intemperate  man,  a few  years  since,  whose 
breath  caught  fire  by  coming  in  contact  with  a lighted  can- 
dle, and  he  was  consumed.  At  the  time,  I disbelieved  the 


EFFECTS  OF  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


11 


story,  but  my  reading  has  since  furnished  me  with  well  au- 
thenticated cases  of  a combustion  of  the  human  body  from 
the  use  of  ardent  spirits.  Trotter  mentions  ten  such  cases, 
and  relates  them  at  length.  They  are  attended  with  all  the 
proof  we  require  to  believe  any  event.  They  are  attested 
by  living  witnesses,  examined  by  learned  men,  and  published 
in  the  journals  of  the  day  without  contradiction.  It  would 
be  unnecessary  to  relate  the  whole,  but  I will  state  one  of 
them,  and  from  this  an  idea  can  be  formed  of  the  rest.  It 
is  the  case  “ of  a woman  eighty  years  of  age,  exceedingly 
meagre,  who  had  drunk  nothing  but  ardent  spirits  for  sev- 
eral years.  She  was  sitting  in  her  elbow-chair,  while  her 
waiting-maid  went  out  of  the  room  for  a few  moments.  On 
her  return,  seeing  her  mistress  on  fire,  she  immediately  gave 
an  alarm  ; and  some  people  coming  to  her  assistance,  one  of 
them  endeavored  to  extinguish  the  flames  with  his  hands, 
but  they  adhered  to  them  as  if  they  had  been  dipped  in  bran- 
dy or  oil  on  fire.  Water  was  brought  and  thrown  on  the 
body  in  abundance,  yet  the  fire  appeared  more  violent,  and 
was  not  extinguished  till  the  whole  body  had  been  consumed. 
The  lady  was  in  the  same  place  in  which  she  sat  every  day, 
thei-e  was  no  extraordinary  fire,  and  she  had  not  fallen.’,’* 

This,  with  nine  other  cases,  related  by  the  same  author, 
was  a consumption  of  the  body  produced  by  the  use  of 
ardent  spirits.  The  horror  of  a drunkard’s  death  beggars 
description.  Need  I point  to  yonder  grave,  just  closed 
over  the  remains  of  one  who  went  from  the  cup  of  excess 
to  almost  instant  death  ? You  all  know  it. 

But  this  is  not  all.  One  half  the  poor  you  support  by 
taxes  and  individual  charity,  are  made  poor  by  the  use  of 
ardent  spirits.  This  has  been  demonstrated  by  actual  in- 
quiry and  examination.  In  the  city  of  New  York,  where 
there  are  more  poor,  and  where  more  is  done  for  them  than 
* Trotter  on  Drunkenness,  pp.  78,  79. 


12 


EFFECTS  OF  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


in  any  other  city  of  the  United  States,  a committee  appoint- 
ed for  the  purpose,  ascertained  by  facts,  that  more  than  one 
dialf  of  the  city  poor  were  I'educed  to  poverty  by  intemper- 
ance. This  is  also  the  case  throughout  the  Union.  And 
here  permit  me  to  state  a case,  with  which  I am  acquainted. 
I do  it  with  a double  object.  I do  it  to  show  that  the  use 
of  ardent  spirits  produces  poverty  and  distress,  and  the 
disuse  of  them  restores  to  wealth  and  comfort. 

A gentleman  in  the  city  of  New  York,  who  carried  on 
ship-building  on  an  extensive  scale,  and  employed  a great 
number  of  hands  daily,  and  paid  them  all  in  the  same  man- 
ner, and  nearly  to  the  same  amount,  was  struck  with  the 
difference  in  their  situations.  A few,  and  only  a few,  were 
able,  from  their  wages,  to  support  their  families ; but  these 
were  out  of  debt,  and  independent  in  their  circumstances. 
They  always  had  money  on  hand,  and  frequently  suffered 
their  wages  to  lie  in  the  hands  of  their  employer.  The 
rest  were  poor  and  harassed,  the  former  easy  and  comfort- 
able in  their  circumstances,  and  he  resolved,  if  possible,  to 
ascertain  the  cause  of  the  difference.  On  inquiry  and  ex- 
amination, he  found  that  those  of  them  who  were  above- 
board used  no  ardent  spirits,  while  the  others  were  in  the 
constant  and  daily  use  of  them.  He  satisfied  himself  that 
this  use  of  ardent  spirits  was  the  only  cause  of  the  differ- 
ence in  their  condition.  He  determined,  if  he  could,  to 
prevail  upon  them  all  to  abstain  altogether  from  their  use. 
On  a thorough  and  parental  representation  of  the  case  to 
them,  he  succeeded,  and  they  all  agreed  to  make  use  of 
none  for  a year.  At  the  end  of  the  year  they  were  all,  to 
a man,  out  of  debt,  had  supported  their  families  in  better 
condition,  had  done  more  work,  destroyed  fewer  tools,  and 
were  hearty  and  robust,  and  enjoyed  better  health. 

This  fact  speaks  vmlumes,  and  needs  no  comment.  Adopt 
the  same  practice  in  this  town,  and  the  result  will  be  the 


EFFECTS  OF  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


13 


same.  “What,  drink  none?”  Yes,  I say,  drink  none — 
one  gallon  for  this  town  is  just  four  quarts  too  much.  In 
addition  to  the  miseries  of  debt  and  poverty  which  they 
entail  upon  a community,  they  are  the  parent  of  one  halt 
the  diseases  that  prevail,  and  one  half  the  crimes  that  are 
committed.  It  is  ardent  spirits  that  fill  our  poor-houses 
and  our  jails ; it  is  ardent  spirits  that  fill  our  penitentiaries, 
our  mad-houses,  and  our  state  prisons ; and  it  is  ardent 
spirits  that  furnish  victims  for  the  gallows.  They  are  the 
greatest  curse  that  God  ever  inflicted  on  the  world,  and 
may  well  be  called  the  seven  vials  of  his  wrath.  They  are 
more  destructive  in  their  consequences  than  war,  plague, 
pestilence,  or  famine ; yea,  than  all  combined.  They  are 
slow  in  their  march,  but  sure  in  their  grasp.  They  seize 
not  only  the  natural,  but  the  moral  man.  They  consign 
the  body  to  the  tomb,  and  the  soul  to  hell. 

While  on  earth,  the  victim  of  intemperance  is  as  stupid 
as  an  ass,  as  ferocious  as  a tiger,  as  savage  as  a bear,  as 
poisonous  as  the  asp,  as  filthy  as  the  swine,  as  fetid  as  a 
goat,  and  as  malignant  as  a fiend.  No  matter  what  may 
be  the  original  materials  of  the  man ; his  figure  may  pos- 
sess every  grace  of  the  sculptor ; his  mind  may  be  imbued 
with  every  art  and  science ; he  may  be  fit  to  command  at 
the  head  of  armies,  to  sway  a Roman  senate,  to  wield  the 
destinies  of  nations;. his  heart  may  be  the  seat  of  every 
virtue ; but  ardent  spirits  will  strip  him  of  the  whole,  and 
convert  him  into  a demon.  Need  I tell  how  ? Need  I 
point  out  the  change  that  ebriety  produces  in  the  moral  and 
social  affections?  Need  I present  the  sword  red  with  a 
brother’s  blood  ? It  was  in  a drunken  revel  that  the  infu- 
riate Alexander  slew  his  best  friend  and  most  beloved 
companion  Clytus.  And  it  was  in  a drunken  revel  that  he 
proclaimed  himself  a god,  and  died. 

“ But  have  not  ardent  spirits  one  good  quality,  one  re- 

Temp.  Vol.  ^ 


14 


EFFECTS  OF  ARDExNT  SPIRITS. 


deeming  virtue  ?”  None.  I say,  none.  There  is  nothing, 
not  even  the  shadow  of  a virtue,  to  rescue  them  from  uni- 
versal and  everlasting  execration. 

“ But  they  are  good  as  a medicine.”  No,  not  as  a 
medicine.  There  is  no  physician,  that  does  not  love  them, 
that  needs  them  in  his  practice.  There  is  no  disease  that 
they  cure  or  relieve,  that  cannot  be  cured  or  relieved  with- 
out them.  They  add  to  no  man’s  health ; they  save  no 
man’s  life.* 

It  is  impossible  to  name  a single  good  thing  that  they 
do.  Give  them  to  the  divine ; do  they  add  to  his  piety,  to 
his  zeal,  to  his  faithfulness,  to  his  love  of  God  or  man? 
No  ; they  destroy  them  all.  Give  them  to  the  physician ; 
do  they  increase  his  skill,  his  power  to  discriminate  amid 
the  symptoms  of  disease,  his  judgment  to  apply  the  appro- 
priate remedies,  his  kind  and  affectionate  solicitude?  Nay, 
verily,  they  destroy  tliem  all.  Give  them  to  the  legal  ad- 
vocate ; do  they  increase  his  knowledge,  his  perception  to 
discover  the  points  of  his  case,  his  readiness  to  apply  the 
evidence,  his  ability  to  persuade  a court  and  jury?  No; 
they  destroy  them  all.  Give  them  to  the  mechanic ; do 
they  assist  his  ingenuity,  his  judgment,  or  his  taste  ? No  ; 

* The  writer  is  aware  that  spirits  or  alcohol  are  necessary  hi 
some  preparations  of  tlie  chemist  and  apothecary.  But  it  is  tlie 
use  of  them  as  drinks  which  he  is  combating,  and  which,  he  is 
assured  by  respectable  physicians,  are  not  only  unnecessary,  but 
hurtful,  in  sickness  and  in  healtli.  Were  they  to  e.xist  only  in 
the  apothecary’s  shop  in  tlie  state  of  alcohol,  it  would  be  all  that 
the  world  needs  of  them.  Some  physicians,  nevertlieless,  may 
think  them  useful  in  two  or  three  cases  or  conditions  of  the  body ; 
but  it  is  apprehended,  tliat  if  tliey  should  discontinue  die  use  of 
them  altogether,  except  in  certain  tinctures,  etc.,  they  would  be 
as  successful  as  they  now  are.  They  are  often  used  where  they 
would  not  be,  if  they  were  not  the  most  common  diing  that  could 
be  found. 


EFFECTS  OF  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


15 


they  destroy  them  all.  Give  them  to  the  laborer;  do  they 
add  to  his  strength  ? Do  they  enable  him  to  bear  fatigue, 
to  endure  heat  and  cold  ? Can  he  do  more  work,  or  do  it 
better  ? No  ; they  are  the  ruin  of  the  whole.  They  reduce 
his  strength,  weaken  his  frame,  make  him  more  susceptible 
to  heat  and  cold,  disorganize  his  whole  system,  and  unfit 
him  for  labor. 

“ But  there  are  some  men,”  say  you,  “ who  use  ardent 
spirits,  and  who  get  along  very  well.”  Admitted.  They 
endure  it.  So  there  are  some  men  who  get  along  very  well 
wfith  poor  health  and  feeble  constitutions.  Are  poor  health 
and  feeble  constitutions,  therefore,  no  evils  ? Is  the  pros- 
perity of  such  to  be  attributed  to  them  ? As  much  as  is  that 
of  the  former  to  the  use  of  ardent  spirits.  Was  ever  a man 
made  rich  by  the  use  of  ardent  spirits  ? Never ; but  mill- 
ions have  been  made  beggars  by  it. 

Yet  some  say,  they  feel  letter  by  drinking  ardent  spirits. 
Let  us  e.xamine  this  e.xcuse.  It  is  nothing  but  an  excuse, 
and  he  who  loves  rum  and  is  ashamed  to  owm  it,  says  he 
feels  better  to  drink  it.  Let  us  inquire  how.  Are  they 
conducive  to  health  ? On  this  subject  let  the  physician 
decide.  One,  as  great  as  this  country  lias  produced,  Dr. 
Rush,  says  that  the  habitual  use  of  ardent  spirits  usually 
produces  the  following  diseases  : A loss  of  appetite,  sickness 
at  the  stomach,  obstruction  of  the  liver,  jaundice  and  dropsy, 
hoarseness  and  a husky  cough,  which  often  ends  in  con- 
sumption, diabetes,  redness  and  eruptions  of  tlie  skin,  a 
fetid  breath,  frequent  and  disgusting  belchings,  epilepsy, 
gout,  and  madness.  This  is  the  train  of  diseases  produced 
by  the  use  of  ardent  spirits,  and  the  usual,  natural,  and 
legitimate  consequences  of  their  use.  And  nowq  I ask,  can 
that  which,  of  its  own  nature,  produces  these  diseases, 
make  a man  feel  better  ? Reason  might  answer ; and  were 
she  on  her  throne,  uninfluenced  and  unbiassed  by  the  love  of 


16 


EFFECTS  OF  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


ardent  spirits,  she  would  unequivocally  answer,  iJiTo.  And  we 
find  that  those  who  say  they  feel  better  to  drink  ardent  spirits, 
are  those  wh6  are  in  health,  hut  love  rum,  and  it  gratifies 
their  appetite,  and  this  is  what  they  mean  by  feeling  better. 

I will  examine  for  a moment  the  effect,  the  immediate 
effect  of  ardent  spirits  upon  the  man.  I will  take  a man  in 
health,  and  give  him  a glass  of  ardent  spirits.  The  effect 
is,  to  produce  mental  derangement  and  false  notions  and 
conceptions.  But  one  glass  will  not  have  much  effect.  I 
will  give  him  another,  and,  if  he  loves  rum,  he  feels  better ; 
another,  and  he  feels  better ; another,  better'yet.  By  this 
time  he  has  got  to  feel  pretty  well ; quite  happy.  He  has 
no  fear  or  shame.  He  can  curse,  and  swear,  and  break 
things.  “ He  is  fit  for  treason,  stratagems,  and  spoils.” 
He  fears  no  consequences,  and  can  accomplish  impossibili- 
ties. If  he  is  a cripple,  he  fancies  he  can  dance  like  a satp- ; 
if  he  is  slow  and  unwieldy,  he  can  run  like  a hart ; if  he  is 
weak  and  feeble  in  strength,  he  can  lift  like  Samson,  and 
fight  like  Hercules ; if  he  is  poor  and  pennyless,  he  is  rich 
as  Croesus  on  his  throne,  and  has  money  to  lend.  This  is 
all  a correct  representation.  It  is  what  happens  universally 
with  the  drunkard.  I know  one  man  who  is  intemperate, 
who  is  poor,  and  never  known  to  have  five  dollars  at  a time, 
who,  when  he  is  intoxicated,  has  often,  and  does  usually, 
offer  to  lend  me  a thousand  dollars.  Poor,  miserable,  and 
deluded  man ! But  he  feels  well ; he  is  one  of  those  who 
feel  better  to  drink.  He  is  mentally  deranged  ; his  imagi- 
nation is  disordered.  He  fancies  bliss,  and  felicity,  and 
plent}’-,  and  abundance,  which  do  not  exist ; and  he  awakes 
to  misery,  and  poverty,  and  shame,  and  contempt.  Yet 
this  is  the  exact  feeUng  of  all  those  who  feel  better  to  drink 
spirits.  He  who  drinks  but  a glass,  has  not  the  same  de- 
gree, but  precisely  the  same  kind  of  feeling  with  the  one  I 
have  described. 


EFFECTS  OF  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


17 


And  this  is  all — this  is  all  that  r um  does  to  make  a man 
feel  better.  If  his  wife  and  children  are  starving,  he  feels 
it  not.  He  feels  better.  If  his  afhdrs  are  going  to  ruin,  or 
are  already  plunged  into  ruin,  he  is  not  sensible  to  his  con- 
dition. If  his  house  is  on  fire,  he  sings  the  maniac’s  song, 
and  regards  it  not.  He  feels  better. 

Let  him  who  likes  this  better  feeling  enjoy  it.  Enjoy 
it,  did  I say?  Ho.  Reclaim  him,  if  possible.  Convince 
him  that  he  labors  under  a delusion.  Restore  him  to  truth, 
and  to  reason ; banish  the  cup  from  his  mouth,  and  change 
the  brute  into  the  man. 

And  now,  need  any  more  be  said  to  persuade  mankind 
to  abandon  the  use  of  ardent  spirits  ? the  appalling  facts, 
in  relation  to  them,  are  known  to  all.  Experience  and  ob- 
servation teach  us  that  they  are  the  source  of  ruin,  and 
misery,  and  squalid  wretchedness,  in  a thousand  shapes. 
They  are  the  three-headed  monster ; they  are  the  Gorgons 
with  their  thousand  snakes ; their  name  is  Legion.  And 
shall  I yet  find  advocates  for  their  use  ? Will  this  enlight- 
ened community  yet  say,  they  are  useful  and  necessary  ? 
All  those  who  have  used  them,  and  discontinued  the  use  of 
them,  say  they  are  totally  unnecessary  and  useless.  We 
see  that  those  who  live  without  them  enjoy  more  happiness 
and  better  health  than  those  who  use  them — that  they  live 
longer  lives.  But  oh,  the  folly,  the  stupidity,  and  the  de- 
lusion of  rum-drinkers ! 

But  perhaps  it  may  be  said,  that  the  effects  and  conse- 
quences that  I have  mentioned,  result  from  the  abuse,  and 
not  from  the  proper  and  moderate  use  of  ardent  spirits  ; 
and  that  on  many  occasions,  in  small  quantities,  they  are 
useful.  Let  us  examine  the  circumstances  and  occasions 
when  they  are  said  to  be  necessary ; and  perhaps  I cannot 
do  it  better  than  in  the  words  of  another. 

“They  are  said  to  be  necessary  in  very  cold  weather. 


18 


KFFECTS  OF  AllUENT  SPIRITS. 

This  is  far  from  being  true ; for  the  temporary  heat  they 
produce  is  always  succeeded  by  a greater  disposition  in  the 
body  to  be  affected  by  cold.  Warm  dresses,  a plentiful 
meal  just  before  exposure  to  the  cold,  and  eating  occasion- 
ally a cracker  or  any  other  food,  is  a much  more  durable 
method  of  preserving  the  heat  of  the  body  in  cold  weather.” 
In  confirmation  of  this,  the  case  of  the  vessel  wrecked  off 
the  harbor  of  Hewburyport,  a few  years  since,  may  be  ad- 
duced. On  an  intensely  cold  night,  when  all  the  men  of 
that  vessel  were  in  danger  of  freezing  to  death,  the  master 
advised  them  to  drink  no  ardent  spirits.  He  told  them,  if 
they  did,  they  must  surely  freeze.  Some  took  his  advice, 
while  others,  notwithstanding  his  most  earnest  entreaties, 
disregarded  it.  The  result  was,  that  of  those  who  used  the 
spirits,  some  lost  their  hands,  some  their  feet,  and  some 
peiished  ; while  the  rest  survived  unhurt. 

“ They  are  said  to  be  necessary  in  very  warm  weather. 
Experience  proves  that  they  increase,  instead  of  lessening 
the  effects  of  heat  upon  the  body,  and  thereby  expose  it  to 
diseases  of  all  kinds.  Even  in  the  warm  climate  of  the 
West  Indies,  Dr.  Bell  asserts  this  to  be  true.  Rum,  says 
this  author,  whether  used  habitually,  moderately,  or  in 
excessive  quantities,  always  diminishes  the  strength  of  the 
bod}^  and  renders  man  more  susceptible  to  disease,  and  unfit 
for  any  service  in  Avhich  vigor  or  activity  is  required.  As 
well  might  Ave  throAV  oil  into  a house,  the  roof  of  which  was 
on  fire,  in  order  to  prevent  the  flames  from  extending  to  its 
inside,  as  pour  ardent  spirits  into  the  stomach,  to  lessen  the 
effects  of  a hot  sun  upon  the  skin.”  And  here  permit  me 
to  add,  that  they  are  said  to  be  necessary  in  cold  weather 
to  Avarm,  and  in  warm  weather  to  cool.  The  bare  state- 
ment of  the  argument  on  these  two  points  confounds  itself. 

“Nor  do  ardent  spirits  lessen  the  effects  of  hard  labor 
upon  the  body.  Look  at  the  horse,  Avith  every  muscle  of 


EFFECTS  OF  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


19 


his  body  sivelled  from  morning  till  night,  in  a plough  or  a 
team.  Does  he  make  signs  for  a glass  of  spirits,  to  enable 
him  to  cleave  the  ground  or  climb  a hill  ? No ; he  requires 
nothing  but  cold  water  and  substantial  food.  There  is  no 
nourishment  in  ardent  spirits.  The  strength  they  produce 
in  labor  is  of  a transient  nature,  and  is  always  followed  by 
a sense  of  weakness  and  fatis'ue.”* 

O 

Some  people,  nevertheless,  pretend  that  ardent  spirits 
add  to  their  strength,  and  increase  their  muscular  powers ; 
but  this  is  all  a delusion.  They  think  they  are  strong  when 
they  are  weak.  Rum  makes  them  boast,  and  that  is  all. 
The  truth  is,  it  weakens  them  in  body,  but  strengthens 
them  in  imagination.  Was  not  one  reason  why  Samson  was 
forbidden  by  the  angel  of  God  to  drink  either  wine  or  strong 
drink,  that  he  might  thus  increase  and  preserve  his  strength  ? 
When  you  hear  a man  telling  how  strong  rum  makes  him, 
you  may  be  sure  he  is  weak,  both  in  body  and  mind.  ^ 

There  is  one  other  occasion  for  using  ardent  spirits, 
which  it  Avill  be  proper  to  examine.  They  are  said  to  be 
necessary  to  keep  off  the  contagion  of  disease,  and  are 
recommended  to  attendants  upon  the  sick.  But  the  united 
testimony  of  all  physicians  proves,  that  the  intemperate  are 
first  attacked  by  epidemic  disorders.  This  is  almost  uni- 
versally the  case  in  the  southern  states,  and  in  the  West 
Indies.  E.xperience  also  proves  that  those  attendants  upon 
the  sick,  who  refrain  from  the  use  of  ardent  spirits,  escape, 
Avhile  those  who  use  them  are  swept  away.  If  facts  could 
convince,  the  use  of  ardent  spirits  would  be  abolished.  But 
the  love  of  rum  is  stronger  on  the  human  mind  than  the 
truth  of  Heaven. 

If,  then,  ardent  spirits  are  not  necessary  in  sickness ; if 
they  do  not  prevent  the  effects  of  heat  and  cold ; if  they 
do  not  add  to  our  strength,  and  enable  us  to  perform  more 
* Dr.  Rush. 


20 


EFFECTS  OF  AEDENT  SPIRITS. 


labor ; when  are  they  necessary  ? Why,  people  in  health 
say,  they  w^ant  to  drink  them  now  and  then — they  do  them 
good.  What  good  ? If  they  are  well,  why  do  they  need 
them  ? F or  nothing  hut  to  gratify  the  taste,  and  to  pro- 
duce a feeling  of  intoxication  and  derangement,  shght  in  its 
degree  when  moderately  used,  as  they  are  hy  such  people, 
hut  the  character  of  the  feeling  is  no  less  certain.  It  is  the 
same  feeling  that  induces  the  dninkard  to  drink.  One  man 
takes  a glass  to  do  him  good,  to  make  him  feel  better ; an- 
other wants  two ; another  three ; another  six  ; and  by  this 
time  he  is  intoxicated,  and  he  never  feels  well  till  he  is  so. 
He  has  the  same  feelinof  with  the  man  who  drinks  a single 
glass,  but  more  of  it ; and  that  man  Avho,  in  health,  drinks 
one  glass  to  make  him  feel  better,  is  just  so  much  of  a 
drunkard  ; one-sixth,  if  it  takes  six  glasses  to  intoxicate 
him.  He  has  one-sixth  of  the  materials  of  a drunkard  in 
his  constitution. 

But  it  is  this  moderate  use  of  ardent  spirits  that  produces 
all' the  excess.  It  is  this  which  paves  the  way  to  downright 
and  brutal  intoxication.  Abolish  the  ordinary  and  temper- 
ate use  of  ardent  spirits,  and  there  would  not  be  a drunkard 
in  the  country.  He  who  advises  men  not  to  drink  to  excess, 
may  lop  off  the  branches ; he  who  advises  them  to  drink 
onl}^  on  certain  occasions,  may  fell  the  trunk ; but  he  who 
tells  them  not  to  drink  at  all,  strikes  and  digs  deep  for  the 
root  of  the  hideous  vice  of  intemperance ; and  this  is  the 
only  course  to  pursue.  It  is  this  temperate  use  of  ardent 
spirits  that  must  be  discontinued.  They  must  be  no  longer 
necessary  when  friends  call,  when  we  go  to  the  store  to 
trade,  to  the  tavern  to  transact  business,  when  we  travel 
the  road  on  public  days — in  fact,  they  must  cease  to  be 
fashionable  and  customary  drinks.  Do  away  the  fashion 
and  custom  that  attend  their  use,  and  change  the  tone  of 
public  feeling,  so  that  it  will  be  thought  disgracefid  to  use 


EFFECTS  OF  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


21 


tliem  as  they  are  now  used  by  the  most  temperate  and  re- 
spectable men,  and  an  end  is  for  ever  put  to  the  prevalence 
of  the  beastly  disease  of  intoxication.  Let  those  who  can- 
not he  reclaimed  from  intemperance  go  to  ruin,  and  the 
quicker  the  better,  if  you  regard  only  the  public  good  ; but 
save  the  rest  of  our  population ; save  yourselves ; save 
)mur  children  ! Raise  not  up  an  army  of  drunkards  to  sup- 
ply their  places.  Purify  your  houses.  They  contain  the 
plague  of  death ; the  poison  that,  in  a few  years,  will  ren- 
der some  of  your  little  ones  what  the  miserable  wretches 
that  you  see  staggering  the  streets  are  now.  And  who,  I 
ask,  would  not  do  it  ? What  father,  who  knew  that  one 
of  his  sons  that  he  loves  was,  in  a few  years,  to  be  Avhat 
hundreds  you  can  name  are  now,  would  hesitate,  that 
he  might  save  him,  to  banish  intoxicating-  drinks  from  his 
premises  for  ever  ? 

But  if  all  will  do  it,  he  is  saved ; and  he  ivho  contrib- 
utes but  a mite  in  this  work  of  God,  deserves  the  everlast- 
ing gratitude  of  the  republic.  If  the  names  of  a Brainerd, 
of  a Sivartz,  of  a Buchanan,  haA-e  been  rendered  immortal 
by  their  efforts  to  convert  the  heathen  to  Christianity,  the 
names  of  those  men  who  shall  succeed  in  converting  Chris- 
tians to  temperance  and  sobriety,  should  be  Avritten  in  letters 
of  ever-during  gold,  and  appended  by  angels  in  the  temple 
of  the  living  God.  The  sum  of  their  benevolence  Avould 
be  exceeded  only  by  His,  who  came  down  from  heaven  for 
man’s  redemption.  Then  banish  it ; this  is  the  only  way  to 
save  your  children.  As  long  as  you  keep  ardent  spirits  in 
your  houses,  as  long  as  you  drink  it  yourselves,  as  long  as 
it  is  polite  and  genteel  to  sip  the  intoxicating  bowl,  so  long 
society  will  remain  just  what  it  is  noAv,  and  so  long  drunk- 
ards Avill  spring  from  your  loins,  and  so  long  drunkards 
will  wear  your  names  to  future  generations.  And  there 
is  no  other  way  given  under  heaven,  Avhereby 

4* 


man  can 


22 


EFFELTS  OF  AKUEXT  SPIKITS. 

be  saved  from  the  vice  of  intemperance,  but  that  of  total 
abstinence. 

And,  if  ardent  spirits  are  the  parent  of  all  the  poverty, 
and  disease,  and  crime,  and  madness,  that  I have  named, 
and  if  they  produce  no  good,  what  rational  man  will  use 
them  ? If  he  loves  himself,  he  will  not ; if  he  loves  his 
children,  he  will  not ; and  as  Hamilcar  brought  Hannibal  to 
the  altar,  at  eight  years  of  age,  and  made  him  swear  eternal 
hatred  to  the  Romans,  so  every  parent  should  bring  his 
children  to  the  altar,  and  make  them  swear,  if  I may  so 
speak,  eternal  hatred  to  ardent  spirits.  He  should  teach 
them  by  precept  and  example.  He  should  instil  into  his 
children  a hatred  of  ardent  spirits,  as  much  as  he  does  of 
falsehood  and  of  theft.  He  should  no  more  suffer  his  chil- 
dren to  drink  a little,  than  he  does  to  lie  a little,  and  to  steal 
a little. 

And  what  other  security  have  you  for  your  children, 
or  for  yourselves  ? Yes,  for  yourselves.  I knew  a man 
who,  a few  years  ago,  was  as  temperate  as  anj'^  of  you ; 
was  as  respectable  as  any  of  you,  as  learned  as  any  of  you, 
and  as  useful  in  life  as  any  of  you ; I have  heard  him  from 
the  sacred  desk  again  and  again ; but  by  the  same  use  of 
ardent  spirits  that  most  men  justify  and  advocate,  under 
the  mistaken  notion  that  they  were  beneficial  to  him,  he  has 
at  last  fallen  the  victim  of  intemperance.  And  this  is  not 
a solitary  example.  I had  almost  said,  it  is  a common  ex- 
ample. I could  easily  add  to  the  number. 

And  now,  what  security  harve  3’ou  for  yourselves  ? You 
have  none  but  in  the  course  I have  recommended.  If  it  is 
necessary  for  the  intemperate  man  to  write  on  every  vessel 
containing  ardent  spirits,  “ Taste  not,  touch  not,  handle 
not,”  and  to  brand  them  as  full  of  the  very  wrath  of  God, 
it  is  also  necessary  for  the  temperate  man  to  do  so,  to  save 
himself  from  intemperance. 


EFFECTS  OF  ARDENT  SFIRFFS. 


23 


But  the  difficulty  on  this  subject  is  to  convince  men  of 
their  individual  danger ; that  intemperance  stands  at  their 
own  doors,  and  is  knockino-  for  an  entrance  into  their  own 
houses  ; that  they  and  their  children  are  the  victims  that  he 
seeks. 

But  if  the  places  of  the  present  generation  of  drunkards 
are  to  be  supplied,  whence  will  the  victims  come  but  from 
your  own  children  ? And  who  knows  but  that  the  infant 
the  mother  is  now  dandling  upon  her  knee,  and  pressing  to 
her  bosom,  however  lovely  he  may  appear,  however  re- 
spectable and  elevated  she  is,  will  be  selected  to  be  one  of 
that  degraded,  and  squalid,  and  filthy  class  that,  in  her  old 
age,  will  walk  the  streets  as  houseless,  hopeless,  and  aban- 
doned drunkards?  You  have  no  security,  no  assurance. 

But  we  are  apt  to  think  that  the  wretches  whom  we  see 
and  have  described  were  always  so ; that  they  were  out  of 
miserable  and  degraded  families  ; and  that  they  are  walking 
in  the  road  in  which  they  Avere  born.  But  this  is  not  so. 
Among  the  number  may  be  found  a large  proportion  who 
were  as  lovely  in  their  infancy,  as  promising  in  their  youth, 
and  as  useful  in  early  life,  as  your  own  children,  and  have 
become  drunkards — I repeat  it,  and  never  let  it  be  forgot- 
ten— have  become  drunkards  by  the  temperate,  moderate,  and 
habitual  use  of  ardent  spirits,  just  as  you  use  them  now. 
Were  it  not  for  this  use  of  ardent  spirits,  we  should  not 
now  hear  of  drunken  senators  and  drunken  magistrates ; of 
drunken  lawyers  and  drunken  doctors  ; churches  would  not 
now  be  mourning  over  drunken  ministers  and  drunken 
members ; parents  would  not  be  weeping  over  drunken 
children,  wives  over  drunken  husbands,  husbands  over 
drunken  Avives,  and  angels  over  a drunken  Avorld. 

Then  cease.  No  longer  use  that  which  is  the  source  of 
infinite  mischief,  AvithoAit  one  redeeming  benefit ; Avhich  has 
entailed  upon  you,  upon  your  children,  and  upon  society, 


24 


EFFECTS  OF  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


woes  unnumbered  and  unutterable.  Banish  it  from  your 
houses;  it  can  be  done.  You  have  only  to  will,  and  it  is 
elfected.  Use  it  not  at  home.  Let  it  never  be  found  to 
pollute  your  dwellings.  Give  it  not  to  your  friends  or  to 
your  workmen.  Touch  it  not  yourselves,  and  suffer  not 
your  children  to  touch  it ; and  let  it  be  a part  of  your 
morning  and  evening  prayer,  that  you  and  your  children 
may  be  saved  from  intemperance,  as  much  as  from  famine, 
from  sickness,  and  from  death. 


Reader,  have  you  perused  this  pamphlet ; and  are  you 
still  willing  to  diink,  use,  or  sell  this  soul-destroying  poison  ? 
If  so — if  you  are  willing  to  risk  your  own  soul,  disgrace 
your  friends,  and  ruin  your  children  by  this  fell  destroyer, 
then  go  on  ; but  remember,  that  to  the  drunkard  is  allotted 
the  “blackness  of  darkness  and  despair  for  ever.”  But  if 
not — if  you  feel  the  magnitude  of  the  evil ; if  you  are  will- 
ing to  do  something  to  correct  it,  sit  not  down  in  hopeless 
silence,  but  arouse  to  action ; “ resist  the  devil,  and  he  wUl 
flee  Trom  you not  only  banish  it  from  your  houses,  but 
from  your  stores,  your  shops,  your  farms ; give  it  not  to 
your  workmen  ; refuse  to  employ  those  wdio  use  it ; invite, 
entreat,  conjure  your  friends  and  neighbors  to  refrain  wholly 
from  the  use  of  it ; never  forgetting  that  the  day  of  final 
account  is  at  hand ; that  what  we  do  for  Christ,  and  for  the 
o'ood  of  our  fellow-men,  must  be  done  soon ; and  that  those 

to 

who  sacrifice  interest  for  the  sake  of  conscience,  and  who 
are  instrumental  in  turning  men  from  their  errors,  sliall  not 
lose  their  reward. 


This  address  was  originally  delivered  before  a large  public 
meeting  in  Lyme,  New  Hampshire.  1828. 


APPEAL  TO  YOUTH. 


A TRACT  FOR  THE  TIMES. 


BY  REV.  AUSTIN  DICKINSON. 


To  arrest  a great  moral  evil,  and  elevate  the  general 
standard  of  character  in  a commimity,  the  influence  of  the 
young  is  all-important.  They  can,  if  they  please,  put  an 
end  to  the  most  demorahzing  scourge  that  has  ever  invaded 
our  country,  and  introduce  a state  of  society  far  more  pure 
and  elevated  than  the  world  has  yet  seen. 

Consider  then,  beloved  youth,  some  of  the  numerous 
motives  for  abstaining  from  intoxicating  liquor  and  other 
hurtful  indulgences,  and  employing  your  time  and  faculties 
with  a view  to  the  highest  improvement  and  usefulness, 
Tlie  use  of  such  liquor,  as  a beverage,  will  do  you  no 
good.  It  will  not  increase  your  property  or  credit : no 
merchant  would  deem  a relish  for  it  any  recommendation 
for  a clerk  or  partner  in  business.  It  will  not  invigorate 
your  body  or  mind ; for  chemistry  shows,  that  alcohol  con- 
tains no  more  nutriment  than  fire  or  ho^htninof.  It  will  not 
increase  the  number  of  your  respectable  friends  : no  one,  in 
his  right  mind,  would  esteem  a brother  or  neighbor  the 
more,  or  think  his  prospects  the  better,  on  account  of  his 
occasional  use  of  intoxicating  liquor.  Nor  will  it  in  the 
least  purify  or  elevate  your  affections,  or  help  to  fit  you  for 
the  endearments  of  domestic  life,  or  social  intercoiu'se ; but 
on  the  contrar)^,  Scripture  and  observation  alike  testify,  that 
wine  and  its  kindred  indulgences  “take  away  the  heart.” 
Wliy,  then,  should  a rational  being,  capable  of  the  purest 
happiness,  and  capable  of  blessing  others  by  an  example  of 
temperance,  indulge  in  a beverage  in  no  respect  useful  to 
those  in  health,  but  the  occasion  of  countless  miseries  ! 

But  strict  temperance  has  a direct  influence  on  the 
health  and  vigor  of  both  mind  and  body.  The  most  eminent 
physicians  bear  uniform  testimony  to  its  propitious  effect. 
VOL.  vn. 


2 


APPEAL  TO  YOUTH. 


And  the  Spirit  of  inspiration  has  recorded,  He  that  striveth 
for  the  ma&tery,  is  temperate  in  all  things.  Many  striking 
examples  might  be  adduced.  The  mother  of  Samson,  that 
prodigy  of  human  strength,  was  instmeted  by  an  angel  of 
God  to  preserve  him  from  the  slightest  touch  of  “ wine,  or 
strong  drink,  or  any  unclean  thing.”  And  Luther,  who 
burst  the  chains  of  half  Europe,  was  as  remarkable  for  tem- 
perance, as  for  great  bodily  and  intellectual  vigor.  Sir 
Isaac  Newton,  also,  while  composing  his  Treatise  on  Light, 
a w'ork  requiring  the  greatest  clearness  of  intellect,  it  is  said, 
veiy  scrupulously  abstained  from  all  stimulants.  The  im- 
mortal Edwards,  too,  repeatedly  records  his  conviction  and 
experience  of  the  happy  effect  of  strict  temperance,  both 
on  mind  and  body.  And  recent  reformations  from  moder- 
ate drinking  have  revealed  numerous  examples  of  renovated 
health  and  spirits  in  consequence  of  the  change. 

But  not  to  multiply  instances,  let  any  youth,  oppressed 
with  heaviness  of  brain  or  dulness  of  intellect,  judiciously  try 
the  experiment  of  temperance  in  all  things,  united  with  ha- 
bitual acti\’ity,  and  he  will  be  surprised  at  the  happy  effect. 

Consider,  again,  that  in  the  purest  state  of  morals,  and 
the  most  elevated  and  refined  circles,  the  use  of  intoxicating 
drink  is  now  discountenanced,  and  regarded  as  unseemly. 
Inspiration  has  declared,  “ It  is  not  for  kings  to  drink  wine, 
nor  for  princes  strong  drink.”  And  who  would  not  regard 
any  of  the  truly  noble,  as  lowering  themselves  by  dispar- 
aging this  sentiment  ? What  clerical  association,  or  what 
convention  of  philanthropists,  would  now  be  found  “ min- 
gling strong  drink  ?”  What  select  band  of  students,  hop- 
ing soon  to  officiate  honorably  at  the  altar  of  God,  before 
the  bench  of  justice,  or  in  the  chamber  of  affliction,  would 
now  call  for  brandy  or  wine  ? What  circle  of  refined 
females  would  not  feel  themselves  about  as  much  degraded 
by  familiarity  with  such  indulgences,  as  by  smoking,  or 
profane  language  ? Or  what  parent,  inquirmg  for  an  eligi- 
ble boarding-school,  would  think  of  asking,  whether  his  son 
or  daughter  might  there  have  the  aid  of  such  stimulus,  or 
the  example  of  its  use  ? If,  then,  intoxicating  liquor  is  thus 
disparaged  in  the  most  moral  and  intelligent  circles,  why 
should  it  not  be  universally  abjured  by  individuals?  Why 
should  not  the  young,  especially,  of  both  sexes,  keep  them- 
selves unspotted,  and  worthy  of  the  most  elevated  society  ? 


APPEAL  TO  YOUTH. 


3 


Consider,  moreover,  that  if  the  habit  of  drinking  be 
indulged,  it  may  he  difficult,  if  not  impossible,  should  you 
li\'e,  to  break  off  in  more  advanced  life.  Thus,  even  in  this 
day  of  i-eform,  there  are  individuals,  calling  themselves 
respectable,  so  accustomed  to  drink,  or  traffic  in  the  poison, 
that  all  the  remonstrances  of  philanthropists  and  friends, 
the  wailings  of  the  lost,  the  authority  of  Heaven,  and  the 
anathema  of  public  sentiment  combined,  cannot  now  restrain 
them.  Let  the  youth,  then,  who  turns  with  shame  from 
such  examples  of  inconsistency,  beware  of  a habit  so  hard- 
ening to  the  conscience,  so  deadening  to  the  soul. 

But,  to  increase  your  contempt  for  the  habit  of  drinking, 
think  how  it  especially  prevails  among  the  most  degraded 
portions  of  the  community.  Inquire  through  the  city,  or 
village,  for  those  who  are  so  polluted  as  to  be  shut  out  from 
all  decent  society — so  inured  to  vice  that  they  cannot  be 
looked  upon  but  with  utter  disgust ; leam  their  history,  and 
3'ou  invariably  find  that  the  insidious  glass  has  been  their 
companion,  their  solace,  and  their  counsellor.  And  should 
not  dark  suspicion  and  decided  reprobation  be  stamped 
upon  that  which  is  thus  associated  with  the  lowest  debase- 
ment and  crime  ? 

Such  drink,  in  its  very  nature,  has  a perverting  and 
debasing  tendency — leading  to  foul  speeches,  foolish  con- 
tracts, and  eveiyr  sensual  indulgence.  Those  under  its  influ- 
ence will  sajr  and  do,  what,  in  other  circumstances,  they 
would  abhor : they  will  slander,  reveal  secrets,  throw  away 
property,  offend  modesty,  profane  sacred  things,  indulge 
the  vilest  passions,  and  cover  themselves  and  friends  with 
infam}".  Hence  the  solemn  caution,  “ Look  not  thou  on  the 
wine,  vdien  it  giveth  its  color  in  the  cup  : at  the  last  it  bit- 
eth  like  a serpent,  and  stingeth  like  an  adder : thine  eyes 
shall  behold  strange  women,  and  thy  heart  utter  perverse 
things.”  Those  who,  by  gaming  or  intrigue,  rob  others  of 
their  property,  and  those  who  allure  “ the  simple  ” to  ruin, 
it  is  said,  full}'  understand  its  perverting  influence.  “ Is  it 
not  a little  one  ?”  say  they  ; and  so  the  unwise  are  “ caused 
to  fall,  by  little  and  little.” 

“ She  urged  him  still  to  fill  another  cup  ; 

* * * and  in  the  dark,  still  night, 

When  God’s  unsleeping  eye  alone  can  see. 

He  went  to  her  adulterous  bed.  At  morn 


4 


APPEAL  TO  YOUTH. 


I looked,  and  saw  him  not  among  the  youths  ; 

I heard  his  father  mourn,  his  mother  weep  ; 

For  none  returned  tliat  went  ivith  her.  The  dead 
W ere  in  her  house ; her  guests  in  depths  of  hell : 

She  wove  the  winding-sheet  of  souls,  and  laid 
Them  in  the  urn  of  everlasting  death.” 

Such  is  ever  the  tendency  of  the  insidious  cup.  For 
the  unerring  word  declares,  “Wine  is  a mocker,  strong 
drink  is  raging;  and  whosoever  is  deceived  thereby  is  not 
wise.'"  “They  are  out  of  the  way  through  strong  drink; 
they  err  in  vision,  they  stumble  in  judgment.” 

Indeed,  the  whole  spirit  of  the  Bihle,  as  well  as  uncor- 
rupted taste,  is  in  direct  hostility  to  this  indulgence.  Its 
language  in  regard  to  all  such  stimulants  to  evil  is.  Touch 
not,  taste  not,  handle  not.  And  to  such  as  glory  in  being 
above  danger,  it  says,  with  emphasis,  “ We,  then,  that  are 
strong,  ought  to  bear  the  infii'mities  of  the  weak,  and  not  to 
please  ourselves." 

He  w’ho  hath  declared.  Drunkards  shall  not  inherit  the 
kingdom  of  God,  cannot,  surely,  be  expected  to  adopt,  as 
heirs  of  his  glory,  any  who,  under  all  the  light  that  has  been 
shed  on  this  subject,  perseveringly  resolve  to  sip  the  exhil- 
arating glass  for  mere  selfish  pleasure,  when  they  know  that 
their  example  may  probably  lead  others  to  endless  ruin. 
Common  sense,  as  well  as  humanity,  revolts  at  the  thought. 

On  the  other  hand,  strict  temperance  is  pleasing  to  the 
Most  High.  Hence,  it  is  said  of  him  who  was  honored  to  an- 
nounce the  Saviour’s  advent,  “ He  shall  be  great  in  the  sight 
of  the  Lord,  and  shall  drink  neither  wine  nor  sti'ong  drink.” 

Moreover,  the  habit  of  strict  temperance,  being  allied  to 
other  virtues,  wdll  secure  for  you  the  respect  and  confidence 
of  the  best  portions  of  the  comniuniUj,  as  w'ell  as  the  appro- 
bation of  God,  and  thus  lead  to  your  more  extensive  useful- 
ness. The  jmuth  wdio  promptly  comes  up  to  the  pledge 
and  practice  of  total  abstinence,  and  persuades  others  to  do 
so,  gives  evidence  of  decision  and  moral  courage — gives 
evidence  of  an  intellect  predominating  over  selfish  indul- 
gence, and  superior  to  the  laugh  of  fools ; and  such  is  the 
man  whom  an  intelligent  community  will  delight  to  honor. 

But  you  are  to  live,  not  merely  for  self-advancement,  or 
happiness:  consider,  then,  that  true  patriotism  and  pthilan- 
thropy  rightfully  demand  your  cordial  support  of  the  Tern- 


APPEAL  TO  YOUTH. 


5 


perance  cause.  A thick,  fiery  vapor,  coming  up  from  the 
f pit,  has  been  overspreading  our  whole  land  and  blighting 
half  its  glory.  Thousands,  through  the  noxious  influence  of 
this  vapor,  have  yearly  sunk  to  that  pit,  to  weep  and  lament 
for  ever.  Thousands  more  are  groping  their  miserable  way 
thither,  who,  but  for  this  pestilence,  might  be  among  our 
happiest  citizens.  Still  greater  numbers,  of  near  connections, 
are  in  consequence,  covered  with  shame.  Ah,  who  can  say, 
he  has  had  no  relative  infected  by  this  plague  ? But  Prov- 
idence, in  great  mercy,  has  revealed  the  only  effectual  course 
for  exterminating  the  plague — total  abstinence  from  all  that 
can  intoxicate.).  And  the  adoption  of  this  course,  instead  ot 
involving  any  real  sacrifice,  might  be  an  annual  saving  to 
the  nation  of  many  millions  of  dollars.  What  youth,  then, 

, who  loves  his  countiy,  will  not  cheerfully  cooperate  with 
the  most  respected  of  every  profession  in  encouraging  this 
course?  Who  does  not  see  its  certain  efficacy,  and  the 
grandeur  of  the  result  ? 

Were  a foreign  despot,  with  his  armies,  now  invading 
I our  country,  every  youthful  bosom  would  swell  with  indig- 
i nation.  And  will  you  not  combine  to  arrest  the  more  cruel 
I despot,  Intemperance,  whose  vessels  are  daily  entering  our 
I ports,  whose  magazines  of  death  are  planted  at  the  corners 
' of  our  streets,  and  whose  manufactories  are  like  “ the  worm 
that  dieth  not,  and  the  fire  that  is  not  quenched  ?” 

Were  all  who  have,  in  the  compass  of  a year,  been  found 
drunk  in  the  land,  assembled  in  one  place,  they  would  make 
a greater  army  than  ever  Bonaparte  commanded.  And  yet, 
unless  patriot  hearts  and  hands  interpose,  myriads  more, 
\ from  generation  to  generation,  coming  on  in  the  same  track, 
A will  go  down  like  these  to  the  drunkard’s  grave. 

Were  all  the  thousands  that  annually  descend  to  the 
drunkard’s  grave,  cast  out  at  once  into  an  open  field,  their 
loathsome  carcases  would  cover  many  acres  of  ground. 
And  yet  the  source  of  all  this  pollution  and  death  is  mod- 
erate drinking. 

Were  the  thousands  of  distilleries  and  breweries,  still  at 
work  day  and  night  in  the  land,  placed  in  one  city  or  county, 
they  would  blacken  all  the  surrounding  heavens  ■with  their 
smoke.  And  coidd  all  the  oaths,  obscenities,  and  blasphe- 
mies they  occasion  every  hour,  be  uttered  in  one  voice,  it 
would  be  more  terrific  than  “seven  thunders.” 


VOL.  VII. 


G 


APPEAL  TO  YOUTH. 


And  are  those  armies  of  drunkards,  that  liquid  fire,  those 
carcases  of  the  slain,  those  ever-burning  manufactories,  and 
those  blasphemies  in  the  ear  of  Heaven,  less  appalling,  less 
stirring  to  patriotism,  because  scattered  throughout  the 
land  ? Shall  there  be  no  burst  of  indignation  against  this 
monster  of  despotism  and  wickedness,  because  he  has  insid- 
iously entered  the  country,  instead  of  coming  in  by  bold 
invasion  ? Shall  he  still  deceive  the  nation,  and  pursue  his 
ravages  ? Or  shall  he  not,  at  once,  be  arrested,  when  it  can 
be  done  without  cost,  and  with  infinite  gain  ? 

It  must  not  be  forgotten,  that,  in  this  country,  every 
drunkard  has  equal  power  in  the  elective  franchise  with  the 
most  virtuous  citizen.  Hor  must  it  be  forgotten,  that  should 
the  reform  now  cease,  and  intemperance  again  increase  for 
the  fifty  years  to  come,  in  onl}'  the  same  ratio  that  it  did 
for  twenty  yeai's  previous  to  the  commencement  of  general 
refoi'm  in  1826,  about  one-third  of  our  voters  would  be 
drunkards.  What,  then,  would  be  the  character  of  our 
beloved  republic  ? 

But  should  intemperance  increase  in  that  ratio  for  eighty 
years,  a majority  of  our  voters  would  be  drunkards,  and 
our  population  amount  to  several  hundred  millions.  Who 
then  could  turn  back  the  burningr  tide  ; or  who  could  £fov- 
ern  the  maddening  midtitudes  ? 

It  is  not  a vain  thing,  then,  that  patriots  have  waked 
up  to  this  subject.  Their  trumpet  should  now  thrill  through 
the  land,  and  urge  all  the  young  to  enlist,  at  once,  on  the 
side  of  virtue.  These  can,  if  they  will,  cause  the  river  of 
abominations  to  be  dried  up. 

But  the  subject  of  temperance  has  still  another  aspect, 
far  more  serious.  It  must  be  a solemn  consideration  to 
such  as  realize,  in  any  measure,  the  worth  of  the  soul  and 
the  necessit}'  of  its  regeneration,  that  indulgence  in  the  use 
of  intoxicating  drink,  in  this  day  of  light,  may  grieve  the 
Holy  Spirit,  whose  presence  alone  can  insure  salvation. 
Indeed,  to  say  nothing  of  the  deadening  influence  of  such 
liquor  on  the  conscience,  unless  heaven  and  hell  can  mingle 
together,  rve  cannot,  surely,  expect  God  to  send  his  Spirit 
to  cooperate  with  that  which  is  peculiarly  offensive  to  the 
most  devoted  and  self-denying  of  his  friends,  and  which 
Satan  emploj’s,  more  than  any  other  agent,  in  fitting  men 
for  his  service.  For,  “what  communion  hath  light  with 


APPEAL  TO  YOUTH. 


7 


darkness  ?” — “ wliat  concord  hath  Christ  with  Belial  ?”  Be- 
ware, then,  of  the  arch-deceiver,  in  this  matter.  “ It  is 
not  a vain  thing  for  you,  because  it  is  your  life.” 

It  is  obvious  that  if  such  stimulants  rvere  wholly  done 
away,  tlbe  Gospel  would  have  far  mightier  sway,  and  human 
nature  generally  assume  a higher  character.  Pure  moral 
stimulus  would  take  the  place  of  what  is  low,  sensual,  and 
selfish.  Better  health,  better  tempei’,  higher  intellect,  and 
more  generous  benevolence  would  everywhere  appear. 

It  is  obvious,  likewise,  that  Providence  has  great  de- 
signs to  be  accomplished  by  the  younger  portions  of  this 
generation.  Unto  us  are  committed  those  oracles  which 
declare,  “ Instead  of  thy  fathers  shall  he  thy  children, 
whom  thou  mayest  make  princes  in  all  the  earth.”  And 
already  do  I see,  in  the  silent  kindling  of  unnumbered 
minds,  in  our  Sabbath- schools  and  other  institutions,  the 
presage  of  unexampled  good  to  the  nations.  Who,  then, 
of  the  I’ising  race,  is  so  dead  to  generous  feeling,  so  deaf  to 
the  voice  of  Providence,  so  blind  to  the  beauty  of  moral 
excellence,  that  he  will  not  now  aspire  to  some  course  of 
w'orthy  action  ? Let  this  motto,  then,  stand  out  like  the 
sun  in  the  firmament:  He  that  strivetii  for  the  mastery, 

IS  TEMPERATE  IN  ALL  THINGS. 

One  word  in  i-eference  to  making  and  observing  Vi  pledge 
for  abstinence.  As  it  respects  yourself,  it  will  show  a reso- 
lute, independent  mind,  and  be  deciding  the  question  once 
for  all,  and  thus  supersede  the  necessity  of  deciding  it  a 
thousand  times,  when  the  temptation  is  offered.  It  will, 
moreover,  supersede  the  inconvenience  of  perpetual  war- 
fare with  appetite  and  temptation.  And  as  it  respects 
others,  of  feebler  minds,  or  stronger  appetites,  your  exam- 
ple may  be  immeasurably  important.  Multitudes  may  thus 
be  secured  to  a life  of  sobriety,  who,  but  for  this  pledge, 
would  never  have  had  the  requisite  firmness.  Your  iniiu- 
ence  may  thus  extend  on  the  right  hand  and  on  the  left, 
and  down  to  future  ages  ; and  by  such  united  pledges  and 
efforts,  countless  multitudes  may  be  saved  from  a life  of 
wretchedness,  a death  of  infamy,  and  an  eternity  of  woe. 

But  does  any  one  still  say,  “I  will  unite  in  no  pledge, 
because  in  no  danger  ?”  Suppose  you  are  safe  ; have  you 
then  no  benevolence  ? Are  jmu  utterly  selfish  ? Think  of  the 
bosom  now  wrung  with  agony  and  shame,  over  a drunken 


8 


APPEAL  TO  YOUTH. 


liusband,  or  father,  or  brother.  And  have  you  no  pity? 
Think  of  the  millions  of  hopes,  for  both  worlds,  suspended 
on  the  success  of  the  temperance  cause.  And  will  you  do 
nothing  to  speed  its  triumph  ? 

Do  you  say,  your  influence  is  of  no  account?  It  was 
one  “ poor  man”  that  saved  a “little  city,”  when  a “great 
king  besieged  it.”  Another  saved  a “great  city,”  when 
the  anger  of  Jehovah  was  provoked  against  it.  SmaU  as 
your  influence  may  be,  you  are  accountable  to  God  and 
your  country  ; and  your  finger  may  touch  some  stiing  that 
shall  vibrate  through  the  nation. 

But  are  you  conscious  of  possessing  talent  ? Then  rally 
the  circle  of  your  acquaintance,  and  enlist  them  in  the 
sacred  cause.  And  do  you  save  a little  by  abstinence  ? 
Then  give  a little  to  extend  the  benign  influence.  What 
youth  cannot,  at  least,  circulate  a few  Tracts,  and  perhaps 
enlist  as  many  individuals  ? And  Avho  can  estimate  the 
endless  influence  of  those  individuals,  or  their  capacity  for 
rising  with  you  in  celestial  splendor  ? 

But  have  you  wealth,  or  power  with  the  pen  ? Then 
speak  by  ten  thousand  tongues : send  Avinged  messengers 
through  the  city,  the  countiy,  the  town,  the  Adllage,  the 
harbor;  and  thus  may  you  enjoy  wow  the  highest  of  all 
luxuries — the  luxury  of  doing  good.  And,  at  the  same 
time,  trusting  in  Him  who  came  from  the  abodes  of  light, 
“ to  seek  and  save  the  lost,”  you  may  secure  durable  riches 
in  that  world,  Avhere,  saith  the  Scripture,  neither  covetous, 
nor  drunkards,  nor  extortionei’s,  nor  revilers,  nor  the  sloth- 
ful, nor  mere  lovers  of  pleasure,  nor  any  thing  that  defileth, 
shall  eA'er  enter ; but  Avhere  theat  that  be  wise  shall  shine 
forth  as  the  brightness  of  the  firmament  for  ever  and  ever. 

When  these  opposite  characters  and  theh  changeless 
destinies  are  seriously  weighed,  none,  surely,  can  hesitate 
which  to  prefer.  But,  “ what  thou  doest,  do  quickly.” 


Note. — A premium  of  fifri''  dollars,  offered  by  a friend,  was 
awarded  to  tlie  author  of  tliis  Tract 


rUBLISHED  BY  THE  AMERICAN  TRACT  SOCIETA'. 


ALARM  TO  DISTILLERS. 


BY  RBV,  BAXTER  DICKINSON,  D.  D. 


The  art  of  turning  tlie  products  of  the  earth  mto  a fiery 
spirit  was  discovered  by  an  Arab,  about  nine  hundred- years 
ago.  The  effects  of  this  abuse  of  nature’s  gifts  were  soon 
viewed  with  alarm.  Efforts  were  made,  even  by  a heathen 
people,  to  arrest  the  evil ; and  it  shows  the  mighty  agency 
and  cunning  of  Satan,  that  Christian  nations  should  ever 
have  been  induced  to  adopt  and  encourage  this  deadliest  of 
man’s  inventions.  In  the  guilt  of  encouraging  the  destruc- 
tive  art,  our  own  free  country  has  largely  participated.  In 
the  year  1815,  as  appears  from  well-authenticated  statis- 
tics, our  number  of  distilleries  had  risen  to  nearly  forty 
thousand  ; and,  until  within  a few  years  past,  the  progress 
of  intemperance  threatened  all  that  was  fair  and  glorious  in 
our  prospects.  The  reformation  recently  commenced  is  one 
of  the  grandest  movements  of  our  world  ; and  to  secure  its 
speedy  triumph,  the  concurrence  of  distillers  is  obviously 
indispensable.  They  must  cease  to  provide  the  destroying 
element.  This  they  are  ui'ged  to  do  by  the  following  con- 
siderations : 

1.  The  business  of  distilling  confers  no  benefits  on  your 
fellow-men.  Ardent  sphit  is  not  needed  as  an  article  of 
living.  In  the  first  ages  of  the  world,  when  human  life 
was  protracted  to  himdreds  of  years,  it  was  unknown.  By 
the  first  settlers  of  this  country  it  was  not  used.  It  was 
scarcely  used  for  a whole  century.  And  those  temperate 
generations  were  remarkably  robust,  cheerful,  and  enter- 
prising. To  this  we  may  add,  that  several  hundred  thou- 
sand persons,  accustomed  to  use  it,  have  given  it  up  en- 
tirely within  a few  years  past ; and  their  rmited  testimony 
is,  that  they  have  made  no  sacrifice  either  of  health,  or 

VOL.  vn. 


2 


ALAIOI  TO  DISTILLEllS. 


strength,  or  any  real  comfort.  Indeed  few,  if  any,  except 
such  as  have  the  intemperate  appetite,  will  now  seriously 
contend  that  distilled  liquor  is  necessary  or  useful.  The 
little  that  may  perhaps  be  desirable  as  medicine,,  might  be 
made  by  the  apothecary,  or  the  physician. 

The  talents  God  has  given  you  might  be  applied  to  ad- 
vance the  welfare  of  your  fellow-men.  It  is  your  duty — 
your  highest  honor — thus  to  apply  them.  And  on  the  bed 
of  death,  in  near  prospect  of  the  judgment,  it  will  surely 
be  a melancholy  reflection  that,  as  regards  the  happiness 
of  mankind,  your  life  has  been  an  utter  blank. 

2.  The  business  of  distilling  is  not  only  useless,  but  is 
the  occasion  of  many  and  great  evils.  Recent  examination 
has  developed  a number  of  appalling  facts,  which  few,  if 
any,  pretend  to  question.  It  is  admitted  that  the  use  of 
ardent  spirit  has  been  a tax  on  the  population  of  our  coun- 
tiy,  of  from  fifty  to  a hundred  millions  of  dollars  annually. 
It  is  admitted  that  three-fourths  of  all  the  crimes  of  the 
land  result  from  the  use  of  intoxicating  liquor.  It  is  ad- 
mitted that  at  least  three-fourths  of  all  the  sufferings  of 
poverty  arise  from  the  same  source.  It  is  admitted  that 
upwards  of  thirty  thousand  of  our  citizens  have  annually 
descended  to  the  drunkard’ s grave.  It  is  admitted,  by 
those  who  believe  the  Bible,  that  drunkards  shall  not 
inherit  eternal  life,  but  must  have  their  part  in  the  lake  that 
hurneth  with  fire  and  brimstone.  In  a word,  it  is  admitted 
that  health,  fortune,  social  happiness,  intellect,  conscience, 
heaven,  are  all  swept  away  by  the  tide  of  intemperance. 

And  now,  what  you  are  specially  bound  to  ponder  is, 
that  this  burning  tide,  with  all  its  desolations,  flows  from 
those  very  fountains  you  have  opened — the  boiling  flood 
can  be  perpetuated  only  by  those  fires  which  your  hands 
kindle,  and  which  it  is  your  daily  task  to  tend. 

The  position  you  occupy,  then,  is  one  of  most  fearful 
responsibility.  You  are  directly  and  peculiarly  accessary 
to  a degree  of  guilt  and  misery  Avhich  none  but  the  infinite 
mind  can  comprehend.  I hear  for  you  a loud  remonstrance 
from  every  court  of  justice,  from  every  prison  of  collected 


ALARM  TO  DISTILLERS. 


3 


crime,  from  every  chamber  of  debasement,  and  from  every 
graveyard,  as  well  as  from  the  dark  world  of  despair.  I 
hear  the  cries  of  unnumbered  mothers,  and  widows,  and 
orphans,  all  Avith  one  voice  imploring  you  to  extingiush 
those  fires,  to  dry  up  those  fountains,  and  to  abandon  an 
occupation  pregnant  Avith  infamy,  and  death,  and  perdition. 

3.  The  business  of  distilling  destroys,  to  a great  extent, 

the  bounties  of  Providence.  Many  of  the  substances  con- 
verted into  ardent  spirit  are  indispensable  to  the  comfort 
of  man — some  of  them  the  very  staff  of  life.  But  the  Avork 
of  distillation  not  only  destro)' s them  as  articles  of  food,  but 
actually  converts  them  to  poison.  An  incalculable  amount 
of  grain,  and  tens  of  thousands  of  hogsheads  of  sugar  and 
molasses,  besides  enormous  quantities  of  other  useful  arti- 
cles, are  every  3'ear  thus  Avickedly  perverted  in  tliis  Christian 
land.  Who  does  not  knoAV  the  odious  fact  that,  in  many 
places,  the  distillery  has  regulated  the  price  of  bi’ead  ? 
Who  does  not  knoAv  that  this  engine  of  iniquity  has  at  times 
so  consumed  the  products  of  industry  as  to  make  it  difficult 
for  the  poorer  classes  to  get  a supply  ? “ The  poor  Ave 

have  always  Avith  us and  cries  of  the  suffering  are  often 
heard  from  other  lands.  Such  facts,  it  Avould  seem,  might 
reach  the  conscience  of  all  Avho  are  Avantonly  destroying 
Heaven’s  gifts.  Can  you,  for  a little  selfish  gain,  persist  in 
converting  the  bread  of  multitudes  into  pestilential  fire  ? 
Hoav  utterly  unlike  the  example  of  Him  Avho,  while  feeding- 
thousands  by  miracle,  could  still  saj%  “ Gather  up  the  frag- 
ments Avhich  remain,  that  nothing  be  lost.” 

4.  By  continuing  this  destructive  business,  you  greatly 
offend  the  virtuous  and  respectable  part  of  the  community. 
The  temperance  reformation  has  been  commenced  and  pros- 
ecuted by  enlightened  men.  It  is  not  the  enterprise  of  any 
political  party  or  religious  sect.  It  has  the  general  support 
of  ministers  and  Christians  of  different  denominations,  of 
statesmen,  judges,  laAvyers,  physicians,  and  hundreds  of 
thousands  in  the  walks  of  private  life.  They  regard  the 
enterprise  as  one,  on  the  success  of  Avhich  hang  the  liberties 
of  our  republic  and  the  happiness  of  future  millions. 


4 


ALARM  TO  DISTILLERS. 


You  cannot  be  surprised,  then,  that  they  look  M'ith  pain 
on  operations  directly  adapted  to  defeat  their  plans,  and 
perpetuate  the  dread  evil  they  deplore.  You  cannot  sup- 
pose that  their  eye  will  light  on  the  fountains  of  this  mighty 
evil  hut  with  inexpressible  grief,  disgust,  and  indignation. 
And  if  you  have  the  common  magnanimity  of  our  nature, 
you  will  surely  cease  to  outrage  the  feelings  of  the  virtuous 
throughout  the  nation. 

5.  You  pursue  a pernicious  calling,  in  opposition  to 
great  light.  The  time  was  when  good  men  extensively  en- 
gaged in  the  distilling  business,  and  when  few  seemed  to 
be  aware  of  its  fearfully  mischievous  tendency.  The  mat- 
ter had  not  been  a subject  of  solemn  and  extensive  discus- 
sion. The  sin  was  one  of  comparative  ignorance.  But  cir- 
cumstances have  changed.  Inquiry  has  thrown  upon  the 
community  a flood  of  light.  The  evil  of  intemperance  has 
been  exhibited  in  its  complicated  horrors.  Ardent  spiiit 
has  been  found  to  be  not  only  useless,  but  fearfully  destruc- 
tive ; so  that  the  guilt  of  manufacturing  it  is  now  enor- 
mously aggravated. 

Good  men  were  once  engaged  in  importing  slaves. 
They  suspected  not  the  iniquity  of  the  business ; and  an 
apology  can  be  offered  for  them,  on  the  ground  of  igno- 
rance. But  their  trade  has  now  come  to  be  regarded  by  the 
civilized  world  in  the  same  odious  light  as  piracy  and  mur- 
der. The  man  who  engages  in  it  is  stamped  with  everlast- 
ing infamy.  And  the  reason  is,  that,  like  the  distiller,  he 
now  sins  amid  that  fulness  of  light  which  an  age  of  philan- 
thropy has  poured  around  him. 

6.  Perseverance  in  the  business  of  distilling  must  neces- 
sarihj  he  at  the  expense  of  your  own  reputation  and  that  of 
your  posterity.  You  are  creating  and  sending  out  the  ma- 
terials of  discord,  crime,  poverty,  disease,  and  intellectual 
and  moral  degradation.  You  are  contributing  to  perpetuate 
one  of  the  sorest  scourges  of  oui'  world.  And  the  scourge 
can  never  be  removed  till  those  deadly  fires  you  have  kin- 
dled are  all  put  out.  That  public  sentiment  which  is  worthy 
of  respect  calls  upon  you  to  extinguish  them.  And  the 


ALARM  TO  DISTILLERS. 


5 


note  of  remonstrance  will  wax  louder  and  louder  till  every 
smoking  distillery  in  the  land  is  demolished.  A free  and 
enlightened  people  cannot  quietly  look  on  while  an  enemy 
is  working  his  engines  and  forgino’  the  instruments  of 
national  bondage  and  death. 

Without  a prophet’s  vision,  I foresee  the  day  Avhen  the 
manufacture  of  intoxicating  liquor,  for  common  distribution, 
will  be  classed  with  the  arts  of  counterfeiting  and  forgery, 
and  the  maintenance  of  houses  for  midnight  revelry  and 
corruption.  Like  these,  the  business  Avill  become  a Avork 
only  of  darkness,  and  be  prosecuted  only  by  the  outlaw. 

Weigh  Avell,  then,  the  bearing  of  your  destructive  em- 
ployment on  personal  and  family  character.  The  employ- 
ment may  secure  for  you  a little  gain,  and  perhaps  Avealth. 
But,  in  a day  of  increasing  light  and  purity,  you  can  never 
rid  treasures,  thus  acquired,  of  a stigma,  Avhich  Avill  render 
him  miserably  poor  Avbo  holds  them.  Upon  the  dAvelling 
you  occupy,  upon  the  fields  you  enclose,  upon  the  spot  that 
entombs  your  ashes,  there  Avill  be  fixed  an  indescribable 
gloom  and  odiousness,  to  offend  the  eye  and  sicken  the  heart 
of  a virtuous  community,  till  your  memory  shall  perish. 
Quit,  then,  this  vile  business,  and  spare  your  name,  spare 
your  family,  spare  your  children’s  children  such  insupport- 
able shame  and  reproach. 

7.  By  prosecuting  this  business  in  a day  of  light  and 
reform,  you  peculiarly  offend  God,  and  jeopard  your  immor- 
tal interests.  In  “times  of  ignorance,”  God,  in  a sense, 
“ Avinked  at”  error.  But  let  the  error  be  persisted  in  under 
a full  blaze  of  light,  and  it  must  be  the  occasion  of  a dread 
retribution  from  his  throne. 

The  circumstances  of  the  distiller  are  noAv  entirely 
changed.  His  sin  AAms  once  a sin  of  ignorance,  but  is  such 
no  longer.  He  Icnotvs  he  is  taking  bread  from  the  hungry, 
and  perverting  the  bounties  of  Providence.  He  he 

is  undermining  the  very  pillars  of  our  republic.  He  knows 
that,  by  distilling,  he  confers  no  benefits  upon  mankind. 
He  knows  be  is  directly  accessary  to  the  temporal  Avretch- 
edness  and  the  endless  wailing  of  multitudes.  And  knowing 

Tnn  p.  A’nL  ,7 


6 


ALARM  TO  DISTILLERS. 


tliese  things,  and  keeping  on  his  way,  he  accumulates  guilt 
which  the  Holy  One  cannot  overlook.  If  endless  exclusion 
from  heaven  be  the  drunkard’s  doom,  can  he  be  held  guilt- 
less who  deliberately  prepared  for  him,  and  perhaps  placed 
in  his  hand,  the  cup  of  death  and  damnation  ? This  is  not 
the  decision  either  of  Scripture  or  of  common  sense.  Wil- 
fully persevering  to  furnish  the  sure  means  of  death,  you 
cany  to  the  judgment  the  murderer’s  character  as  clearly 
as  the  midnight  assassin. 

And  now,  ivhat  is  the  apology  for  prosecuting  a busi- 
ness so  manifestly  offensive  to  God,  and  ruinous  to  yourself, 
as  well  as  others  ? Do  you  say.  It  is  necessary  as  a means 
of  support  ? But  whence  have  you  derived  authority  to 
procure  a living  at  the  sacrifice  of  conscience,  character,  and 
the  dearest  interests  of  others  ? And  is  the  maintenance 
of  a public  nuisance  really  necessary  to  jmur  support?  In 
a country  like  this,  the  plea  6f  necessity  for  crime  is  glar- 
ingly impious.  Many  and  varied  departments  of  honest 
and  honorable  industry  are  before  you,  all  promising  a gen- 
erous reward  ; and,  neglecting  them  for  a wicked  and  mis- 
chievous occupation,  you  must  bear  the  odium  of  a most 
sordid  avarice,  or  implacable  malignity. 

You  virtual!}',  too,  impeach  the  character  of  God.  You 
proclaim  that  he  has  made  your  comfort,  and  even  subsist- 
ence, to  depend  upon  the  practice  of  miquity.  It  is  an 
imputation  he  must  repel  with  abhorrence  and  wrath.  Nor 
is  it  sustained  by  the  conscience,  reason,  or  experience  of 
any  man. 

But  possibly  you  urge,  in  self-justification.  Others  will 
manufacture  spirit,  if  I do  not.  But  remember,  the  guilt 
of  one  is  no  excuse  for  another.  “ Every  one  of  us  shall 
give  account  of  himself  to  God.”  If  others  pursue  a busi- 
ness at  the  sacrifice  of  character  and  of  heaven,  it  becomes 
you  to  avoid  their  crime,  that  you  may  escape  their  doom. 

It  is  not  certain,  however,  that  others  will  prosecute 
the  destructive  business,  if  you  abandon  it.  Men  of  fore- 
thought will  not  now  embark  their  silver  and  gold  on  a pes- 
tilential stream,  soon  to  be  dried  up  under  that  blaze  of  light 


ALARM  TO  DISTIIJ-ERS. 


7 


and  heat  which  a merciful  God  has  enkindled.  They  will 
not  deem  it  either  -wise  or  safe  to  kindle  unholy  and  deadly 
fires  where  the  pure  river  of  the  water  of  life  is  so  soon  to 
overflow.  In  the  eye  of  thousands,  the  distillery  on  your 
premises  adds  nothing  to  their  value.  Indeed,  should  they 
purchase  those  premises,  the  filthy  establishment  would  be 
demolished  as  the  first  effort  of  improvement.  And  every 
month  and  hour  is  detracting  from  its  value,  and  blacken- 
ing the  curse  that  rests  upon  it. 

Let  the  thousands  now  concerned  in  distilling  at  once 
put  out  their  fires,  and  the  act  would  cause  one  general 
burst  of  joy  through  the  nation ; and  an)^  eff’ort  to  rekindle 
them  would  excite  an  equally  general  burst  of  indignation 
and  abhorrence.  None  but  a monster  of  depravity  would 
ever  make  the  attempt. 

But  again,  perhaps  you  say,  JSfo  one  is  obliged  to  use  the 
spirit  that  is  made.  But  remember,  that  you  make  it  only 
to  be  used.  You  make  it  with  the  desire,  with  the  hope, 
with  the  expectation  that  it  will  be  used.  You  know  it  has 
been  used  by  thousands — by  millions — and  has  strewed  the 
land  with  desolation,  and  peopled  hell  with  its  victims  ; and 
you  cannot  but  acknowledge  that  you  would  at  once  cease 
to  make  the  liquor,  did  you  not  hope  it  would  continue  to  he 
used.  Indeed,  you  must  see  thnijust  in  proportion  to  your 
success  will  be  the  amount  of  mischief  done  to  your  fellow- 
men. 

It  seems  hardly  needful  to  say  that  the  foregoing  corir 
siderations  are  all  strictly  applicable  to  such  as  furnish 
THE  MATERIALS  for  the  distiller.  Were  these  withheld,  his 
degrading  occupation  would  of  course  cease.  By  suffering, 
then,  the  fruits  of  your  industry  to  pass  into  lus  hands,  you 
perpetuate  his  work  of  death.  You  share  all  his  guilt,  and 
shame,  and  curse.  And  remember,  too,  that  the  bushel  of 
grain,  the  barrel  of  cider,  the  hogshead  of  molasses,  for 
which  you  thus  gain  a pittance,  may  be  returned  from  the 
fiery  process  only  to  hasten  the  infamy  and  endless  ruin  of 
a beloved  son,  or  brother,  or  friend. 

Nor  is  the  crime  of  the  retailer  of  ardent  spirit  essen- 


8 


ALARM  TO  DISTILLERS. 


tially  differfint.  He  takes  the  poison  from  the  distiller,  and 
insidiously  deals  it  out  to  his  fellow-men.  It  is  truly  stir- 
ring to  one’s  indignation  to  notice  his  variety  of  artifice  for 
rendering  it  enticing.  His  occupation  is  one  which  the  ci\  il 
authorities  have,  in  some  places,  with  a noble  consistency, 
ceased  to  tolerate ; and  one  which  must  soon  be  put  down 
by  the  loud  voice  of  public  sentiment. 

Indeed,  the  retailer,  the  distiller,  and  he  who  furnishes 
the  materials,  must  be  looked  upon  as  forming  a triple 
LEAGUE,  dangerous  alike  to  private  and  social  happiness, 
and  to  the  very  liberties  of  the  nation.  And  an  awakened 
people  cannot  rest  till  the  deadly  compact  is  sundered. 
Why  not,  then,  anticipate  a little  the  verdict  and  the  ven- 
geance of  a rising  tone  of  public  sentiment,  and  at  once  pro- 
claim the  unholy  alliance  dissolved  ? Why  not  anticipate 
the  verdict  of  an  infinitely  higher  tribimal — why  not  believe 
God’s  threatening,  and  escape  the  eternal  tempest  that  low- 
ers for  him  who  'putteth  the  cup  to  his  neighbor’s  lips  ? TMiy 
not  cooperate  promptly  in  a public  reform  that  is  regarded 
with  intense  interest  in  heaven,  on  earth,  and  in  hell  ? 

0 review,  as  men  of  reason,  and  conscience,  and  immor- 
tality, this  whole  business.  And  if  you  l^ave  no  ambition 
to  benefit  your  fellow -men — if  you  can  consent  to  ruin  many 
for  both  worlds-. — if  you  can  persist  in  waiting  and  pervert- 
ing the  bounties  of  a kind  Providence- — if  you  can  outrage 
the  feelings  of  the  most  enlightened  and  virtuous — if  you 
can  pursue  a work  of  darkness  amid  noonday  light — if  you 
can  sacrifice  a good  name,  and  entail  odium  on  all  you 
leave — and  if  you  can  deliberate!}'  offend  God,  and  jeopard 
your  immortal  interests  for  paltry  gain,  then  go  on — go  on 
a little  longer ; but,  “ 0 my  soul,  come  not  thou  into 

THEIR  secret  ; UNTO  THEIR  ASSE.MBLY,  MINE  HONOR,  BE  NOT 
THOU  UNITED.” 

Note. — premium,  offered  by  a friend  of  temperance,  was 
awarded  to  the  author  of  tliis  Tract 


PUBLISHED  BY  THE  AMERICAN  TRACT  SOCIETY. 


PUTNAM  AND  THE  WOLF; 


THE  MONSTER  DESTROYED. 


I KEMESiBER,  wheii  a boy,  reading  a story  whicli  chilled 
nay  blood  in  my  veins ; but  which  taught  me  never  to  sit 
down  and  try  to  bear  an  evil  which  might,  by  bold  and 
persevering  efibrt,  be  remedied.  The  story  was  this.  A. 
certain  district  of  country  was  infested  by  a wild  beast. 
The  nuisance  was  intolerable.  The  inhabitants  rallied,  and 
hunted  it  day  and  night,  until  they  drove  it  into  a deep 
den.  -There,  with  dogs,  guns,  straw,  lire,  and  sulpber,  they 
attacked  the  common  enemy  ; but  all  in  vain.  The  hounds 
came  back  badly  wounded,  and  refused  to  return.  The 
smoke  of  blazing  straw  had  no  effect ; nor  had  the  fumes 
of  burnt  brimstone.  The  ferocious  animal  would  not  quit 
its  retirement.  And  now  the  shadows  of  evening  gathered 


AN  ADDRESS  ORIGINALLY  DELIVERED  AT  POMPRET,  CONN.. 

EY  EEV.  JOHN  MARSH  - 


2 


PUTNAM  AND  THE  WOLF  ; OR, 


around  them.  The  clock  struck  nine,  and  ten.  And  should 
they  lose  their  prey  ? They  must,  unless  some  one  should 
be  so  daring  as  to  descend  into  this  den  of  monsters  and 
destroy  the  enemy.  One  man  offered  to  go ; but  his  neigh- 
bors remonstrated  against  the  perilous  enterprise.  Perilous 
indeed  it  was ; but  live  so  they  could  not,  and  stripping  off 
his  coat  and  waistcoat  and  having  a long  rope  fastened 
round  his  legs,  by  which  he  might  be  pulled  back,  he  en- 
tered with  a flaming  torch  in  his  hand,  head  foremost.  The 
most  terrifying  darkness  appeared  in  front  of  the  dim  circle 
afforded  by  his  light.  It  was  still  as  the  house  of  death. 
But  proceeding  onwards  with  unparalleled  courage,  he  dis- 
cov(  red  the  glaring  eyeballs  of  the  ferocious  beast,  who 
was  sitting  at  the  extremity  of  the  cavern.  For  a moment 
he  retreated ; but  again  descended  with  his  musket.  The 
beast  howled,  rolled  its  eyes,  snapped  its  teeth,  and  threat- 
ened him  with  instant  death,  when  he  levelled,  fired,  and 
brought  it  forth  dead,  to  the  view  of  his  trembling  and 
exulting  neighbors. 

Little  did  I then  think  that  I should  one  day  see  the 
country  rallied  on  the  same  spot,  to  hunt  a more  terrible 
monster,  whose  destruction  will  require  Putnam  courage. 

The  old  enemy,  gentlemen,  which  your  fathers  hunted 
about  these  hills  and  dales,  was  visible  to  the  eye,  and  could 
bo  reached  with  powder  and  ball ; but  the  enemy  whom 
you  assault  is,  like  the  foe  of  human  bliss  which  entered 
the  garden  of  Eden,  invisible,  and  therefore  not  to  be  de- 
scribed,  and  not  to  be  destroyed  by  force  of  arms.  That 
enemy  did,  indeed,  to  effect  his  purpose,  assume  the  form 
of  a serpent ; and  ours  has  been  said,  as  belonging  to  the 
same  family,  to  have  occasionally  the  same  aspect.  A gen- 
tleman in  Missouri  has  recently  described  a dreadful  worm 
which,  he  says,  infests  that  country.  “ It  is  of  a dead  lead 
color,  and  generally  lives  near  a spring,  and  bites  the  unfor- 
tunate people  who  are  in  the  habit  of  going  there  to  drink. 


THE  MONSTER  DESTROYED. 


3 


The  symptoms  of  its  bite  are  terrible.  The  eyes  of  the  pa- 
tient become  red  and  fiery ; the  tongue  swells  to  an  immod- 
erate size  and  obstructs  utterance,  and  delirium  of  the  most 
horrid  character  ensues.  The  name  of  this  reptile  is,  ‘ the 
WORM  OF  the  still.’  ” I suspcct  it  is  one  of  the  same  fam- 
ily which  is  infesting-  the  peaceful  villages  of  New  England, 
and  whose  ravages  have  alarmed  the  country,  and  caused 
you  this  day  to  leave  your  homes  and  seek  its  destruction. 
I would  not  here  inquire  minutel}^  into  its  history.  It  is 
said  to  have  originated  in  Arabia,  the  country  of  the  false 
prophet.  The  aborigines  of  our  forests  never  knew  it. 
They  could  proudly  tread  on  the  rattlesnake  and  copper- 
head, but  never  fell  before  the  worm  of  the  still.  0 woful 
day  when  it  found  its  way  to  our  coasts ; when  here  it  first 
generated  its  offspring. 

Yet  there  are  men  who  think  we  belie  it;  who  say  that 
we  are  needlessly  alarmed  ; that  we  are  hunting  a friend ; 
that  we  fire  driving  one  from  our  country  without  whose  aid 
we  can  never  check  the  ravages  of  disease,  or  perform  our 
labor,  or  have  any  hilarity.  It  is  not,  say  they,  a poisonous 
foe.  It  is  a pleasant  cordial ; a cheerful  restorative ; the 
first  friend  of  the  infant;  the  support  of  the  enfeebled 
mother ; a sweet  luxury,  given  by  the  parent  to  the  child ; 
the  universal  token  of  kindness,  friendship,  and  hospitality. 
It  adorns  the  sideboards  and  tables  of  the  rich,  and  enlivens 
the  social  circles  of  the  poor ; goes  with  the  laborer  as  his 
most  cheering  companion ; accompanies  the  mariner  in  his 
long  and  dreary  voyage  ; enlivens  the  carpenter,  the  mason, 
the  blacksmith,  the  joiner,  as  they  ply  their  trade ; follows 
the  merchant  to  his  countei-,  the  physician  to  his  infected 
rooms,  the  lawyer  to  his  office,  and  the  divine  to  his  study, 
cheerino-  all  and  comforting  all.  It  is  the  life  of  our  trainings, 
and  town-meetings,  and  elections,  and  bees,  and  raisings,  and 
harvests,  and  sleighing-parties.  It  is  the  best  domestic  med- 
icine, good  for  a cold  and  a cough,  for  pain  in  the  stomach, 


4 


PUTOAM  AAD  THK  WOLJ' ; OR, 


and  weakness  in  the  limbs,  loss  of  appetite  and  rheumatism 
and  is  a great  support  in  old  age.  It  makes  a market  for 
our  rye  and  apples;  sustains  100,000  families  who  are  dis- 
tilling and  vending,  and  pours  annually  millions  of  dollars 
into  our  national  treasury.  Had  the  wolf  possessed  the 
cunning  of  the  fo-x,  she  would  have  told  Putnam  as  smooth 
a story  as  this.  But  it  would  have  made  no  difference. 
The  old  man’s  cornfields  were  fattened  by  the  blood  of  his 
sheep,  and  he  would  give  no  quarter.  And  the  blood  of  our 
countrymen  has  been  poui-ed  out  at  the  shrine  of  the  demon 
Intemperance,  and  we  must  give  none.  Talk  we  of  alcohol 
as  a friend ! As  well  may  a mother  praise  the  crocodile 
which  has  devoured  her  offspring. 

Look,  my  countrymen,  at  the  2-avages  of  intemperance. 
Fi.x  your  eye  on  its  waste  of  property. 

At  the  lowest  calculation,  it  has  annually  despoiled  us 
of  a hundred  millions  of  dollai's — of  thirty  millions  for  an 
article  which  is  nothing  worth,  and  sevent)’  or  eighty  mill- 
ions more  to  compensate  for  the  mischiefs  that  article  has 
done — money  enough  to  accomplish  all  that  the  warmest 
pati'iot  could  wish  for  his  country,  and  to  fill,  in  a short 
period,  the  world  with  Bibles  and  a preached  Gospel. 
What  farmer  would  not  be  roused,  should  a wild  beast  come 
once  a year  into  his  borders  and  destroy  the  best  cow  in 
his  farmyard  ? But  6i  cents  a day  for  ardent  spirit  wastes 
$22  81  cents  a yeai-,  and  in  40  years  nearly  $1,000,  which 
is  a thousand  times  as  much  as  scores  of  drunkards  are 
worth  at  their  burial. 

See  the  pauperism  it  has  produced.  We  have  sung  of 
our  goodly  heritage,  and  foreign  nations  have  disgorged 
their  exuberant  population  that  they  might  freely  subsist  in 
this  land  of  plenty.  But  in  this  granary  of  the  world  are 
everywhere  seen  houses  without  windows,  fields  without 
tillage,  barns  without  roofs,  children  without  clothing,  and 
penitentiaries  and  almshouses  filled  to  overflowing ; and  a 


THE  MONSTER  DESTROYED. 


5 


traveller  might  write — beggars  made  here.  We  are  groan- 
ing under  our  pauperism,  and  talking  of  taxes,  and  hard 
times,  and  no  trade ; but  intemperance  has  stalked  through 
our  land  and  devoured  our  substance.  It  has  entered  the 
houses  of  our  unsuspecting  inhabitants  as  a friend,  and 
taken  the  food  from  their  tables,  and  the  clothing  from  their 
beds,  and  the  fuel  from  their  fire,  and  turned  their  lands 
over  to  others,  and  drove  them  from  their  dwellings  to  sub- 
sist on  beggary  and  crime,  or  drag  out  a miserable  existence 
in  penitentiaries  and  almshouses.  Two-thirds,  or  150,000 
of  the  wretched  tenants  of  these  abodes  of  poverty  in  the 
United  States,  were  reduced  by  intemperance.  So  them- 
selves confess.  It  was  rum,  brandy,  and  whiskey,  that  did 
it.  And  the  Prison  Discipline  report  tells  of  50,000  cases 
of  imprisonment  for  debt  annually  in  the  United  States,  in 
consequence  of  the  use  of  ardent  spirits.  0,  its  sweeps  of 
property  can  never  be  known. 

Look  at  the  crime  it  has  occasioned. 

It  is  said  that  there  is  a spring  in  China  which  makes 
every  man  that  drinks  it  a villain.  Eastern  tales  are  found- 
ed on  some  plain  matter  of  fact.  This  spring  may  be  some 
distillery  or  dram-shop ; for  this  is  the  natural  effect  of 
alcohol.  It  breaks  down  the  conscience,  quickens  the  cir- 
culation, increases  the  courage,  makes  man  flout  at  law  and 
right,  and  hurries  him  to  the  perpetration  of  every  abomi- 
nation and  crime.  Excite  a man  by  this  fluid,  and  he  is  bad 
enough  for  any  thing.  He  can  lie,  and  steal,  and  fight,  and 
swear,  and  plunge  the  dagger  into  the  bosom  of  his  nearest 
friend.  No  vice  is  too  filthy,  no  crime  too  tragical  for  the 
drunkard.  The  records  of  our  courts  tell  of  acts  committed 
under  the  influence  of  rum,  which  curdle  the  blood  in  our 
veins.  Husbands  butcher  their  wives ; children  slaughter 
their  parents.  Far  the  greater  part  of  the  atrocities  com- 
mitted in  our  land,  proceed  from  its  maddening  power.  “ I 
declare  in  this  public  manner,  and  with  the  most  solemn 

5* 


G 


PUTNAM  AND  THE  WOLF  ; OR, 


regard  to  truth,”  said  Judge  Rush,  some  years  ago  in  a 
charge  to  a grand  jury,  “ that  I do  not  recollect  an  instance 
since  my  being  concerned  in  the  administration  of  justice,  of 
a single  person  being  put  on  his  trial  for  manslaughter  which 
did  not  originate  in  drunkenness ; and  but  few  instances  of 
trial  for  murder  where  the  crime  did  not  spring  from  the 
same  unhappy  cause.”  Of  895  complaints  presented  to 
the  police  court  in  Boston  in  one  year,  400  were  under  the 
statute  against  common  drunkards.  Of  1,061  cases  of 
criminal  prosecution  in  a court  in  North  Carolina,  more  than 
800  proceeded  from  intemperance.  Five  thousand  com- 
plaints are  made  jmarly  in  New  York  to  the  city  police  of 
outrages  committed  by  intoxicated  persons ; and  the  late 
city  attorney  reports,  that  of  twenty-two  cases  of  murder 
which  it  had  been  his  duty  to  examine,  every  one  of  them 
had  been  committed  in  consequence  of  intemperate  drink- 
ing. “ Nine-tenths  of  all  the  prisoners  under  my  care,”  says 
Captain  Pillsbury,  warden  of  our  own  state  prison,  “are 
decidedly  intemperate  men,  and  were  brought  to  their  pres- 
ent condition,  directly  or  indirectly,  through  intoxicating 
liquor.  Many  have  confessed  to  me  with  tears,  that  they 
never  felt  tempted  to  the  commission  of  crime,  thus  punish- 
able, but  when  under  the  influence  of  strong  drink.”  And 
the  Prison  Discipline  report  states,  “that  of  125,000  crim- 
inals committed  to  our  prisons  in  a single  year,  93,750  were 
excited  to  their  commission  of  crime  by  spirituous  liquors. 

Look  at  its  destruction  of  intellect. 

It  reduces  man  to  a beast,  to  a fool,  to  a devil.  The 
excessive  drinker  first  becomes  stupid,  then  idiotic,  then  a 
maniac.  Men  of  the  finest  geniuses,  most  acute  minds,  and 
profound  learning,  have  dwindled  under  the  touch  of  this 
withering  demon  to  the  merest  insignificance,  and  been 
hooted  by  boys  for  their  silly  speeches  and  silly  actions,  or 
chained  in  a madhouse  as  unsafe  in  society.  Of  eighty- 
seven  admitted  into  the  New  York  hospital  in  one  year,  the 


THE  MONSTER  DESTROYED. 


7 


insanity  of  twenty-seven  was  occasioned  by  ardent  spirit ; 
and  the  physicians  of  the  Pennsylvania  hospital  report,  that 
one-third  of  the  insane  of  that  institution  wei'e  ruined  by 
intemperance.  What  if  one-sixth  of  our  maniacs  were  de- 
prived of  their  reason  by  the  bite  of  the  dogs,  the  friendly 
inmates  of  our  houses,  or  by  some  vegetable  common  on 
our  table ; who  would  harbor  the  dangerous  animal,  or 
taste  the  poisonous  vegetable  ? But,  one-third  of  our  ma- 
niacs are  deranged  by  alcohol.  Indeed,  every  drunkard  is 
in  a temporary  delirium ; and  no  man  who  takes  even  a little 
into  his  system,  possesses  that  sound  judgment,  or  is  capa- 
ble of  that  patient  investigation  or  intellectual  effort,  which 
would  be  his  without  it.  Just  in  proportion  as  man  comes 
under  its  influence,  he  approximates  to  idiotism  or  mad- 
ness. 

Look  at  its  waste  of  health  and  life. 

The  worm  of  the  still,  says  the  Missouri  gentleman, 
never  touches  the  brute  creation,  but  as  if  the  most  venom- 
ous of  all  beings,  it  seizes  the  noblest  prey.  It  bites  man. 
And  w'here  it  once  leaves  its  subtle  poison,  farewell  to 
health — farewell  to  long  life.  The  door  is  open,  and  in 
rush  dyspepsia,  jaundice,  dropsj^  gout,  obstructions  of  the 
liver,  epilepsy — the  deadliest  plagues  let  loose  on  fallen 
man — all  terminating  in  delirium  tremens  or  mania  a potu, 
a prelude  to  the  eternal  buffetings  of  foul  spirits  in  the 
world  of  despair.  One  out  of  every  forty,  or  three  hun- 
dred thousand  of  our  population,  have  taken  up  their  abode 
in  the  lazar-house  of  drunkenness,  and  thirty  thousand  die 
annually  the  death  of  the  drimkard.  These  sweeps  of 
death  mock  all  the  ravages  of  war,  famine,  pestilence,  and 
shipwreck.  The  yellow-fever  in  Philadelphia,  in  1793,  felt 
to  be  one  of  the  greatest  curses  of  heaven,  destroyed  but 
four  thousand.  In  our  last  war  the  sword  devoured  but 
five  hundred  a year:  intemperance  destroys  two  hundred 
a week.  Shipwrecks  destroy  suddenly,  and  the  country 


8 


PUTMAM  AND  THE  WOLF ; OR, 


groans  when  forty  or  fifty  human  beings  are  suddenly  en- 
gulfed in  the  ocean ; but  more  than  half  of  all  the  sudden 
deaths  occur  in  fits  of  intoxication.  It  needed  not  a fable 
to  award  the  prize  of  greatest  ingenuity  in  malice  and  mur- 
der to  the  demon  Avho  invented  brandy,  over  the  demon 
who  invented  war. 

Look  at  its  murder  of  souls. 

Not  satisfied  with  filling  jails,  and  hospitals,  and  grave- 
yards, it  must  people  hell.  Every  moral  and  religious  prin- 
ciple is  dissipated  before  it.  The  heart  becomes,  under  its 
influence,  harder  than  the  nether  mill-stone.  It  has  gone 
into  the  pulpit  and  made  a Judas  of  the  minister  of  Christ. 
It  has  insinuated  itself  into  the  church,  and  bred  putrefac- 
tion and  death  among  the  holy.  It  has  entered  the  anxious 
room  in  seasons  of  revival,  and  quenched  conviction  in  the 
breast  of  the  distressed  sinner,  or  sent  him,  exhilarated 
with  a false  hope,  to  profess  religion,  and  be  a curse  to  the 
church.  It  has  accompanied  men.  Sabbath  after  Sabbath, 
to  the  house  of  God,  and  made  them  insensible  as  blocks 
of  marble  to  all  the  thunders  of  Sinai  and  sweet  strains  of 
Zion.  It  has  led  to  lying,  profane  swearing.  Sabbath- 
breaking, tale-bearing,  contention ; and  raised  up  an  army, 
I may  almost  say,  in  every  village,  who  wish  for  no  Sab- 
bath, and  no  Bible,  and  no  Saviour,  and  who  cry  out  with 
stammering  tongues,  “ Away  with  him,  crucify  him.”  It 
has,  without  doubt,  been  the  most  potent  of  all  the  emis- 
saries of  Satan,  to  obliterate  the  fear  of  the  Lord,  turn  men 
away  from  the  Sabbath  and  the  sanctuary,  steel  them 
against  the  word,  the  providence,  and  grace  of  God,  stu- 
pefy the  conscience,  bring  into  action  every  dark  and  vile 
passion,  and  fill  up  with  immortal  souls  the  dark  caverns  of 
eternal  night.  Let  a man,  day  by  day,  hover  around  a 
dram-shop,  and  sip  and  sip  at  his  bottle,  and  the  devil  is 
sure  of  him.  No  ministers,  no  Sabbaths,  no  prayers,  no 
tears  from  broken-hearted  and  bleeding  relatives,  can  avail 


THE  MONSTER  DESTROYED. 


9 


to  save  him.  He  holds  that  man  by  a chain  which  nothing 
but  Omnipotence  can  bi'eak. 

And  look,  too,  at  its  waste  of  human  happiness. 

Yes,  look — look  for  yourselves.  The  woes  of  drunken- 
ness mock  all  description.  Some  tell  of  the  happiness  of 
drinking.  0,  if  there  is  a wretched  being  on  earth,  it  is  the 
drunkard.  His  property  wasted,  his  character  gone,  his 
body  loathsome,  his  passions  wild,  his  appetite  craving  the 
poison  that  kills  him,  his  hopes  of  immortality  blasted  for 
evei’ ; it  is  all 

“ Me  miserable, 

Which  way  I fly  is  hell,  myself  am  hell.” 

And  his  family.  I can  never  look  at  it  but  with  feelings  of 
deepest  anguish. 

“ Domestic  happiness,  thou  only  bliss 
Of  paradise  that  hast  escaped  the  fall,” 

thou  art  shipwrecked  here.  Sorrow,  woe,  wounds,  poverty, 
babblings,  and  contention,  have  entered  in  and  dwell  here. 
Yet  we  have  300,000  such  families  in  the  land  ; and  if  each 
family  consists  of  four  individuals,  more  than  a million  per- 
sons are  here  made  wu-etched  by  this  curse  of  curses. 

And  his  death.  0,  to  die  in  our  houses,  amid  our 
friends,  and  with  the  consolations  of  religion,  strips  not 
death  of  its  character  as  the  king  of  terrors.  But  to  die 
as  the  drunkard  dies,  an  outcast  from  society,  in  some 
hovel  oi’  almshouse,  on  a bed  of  straw',  or  in  some  ditch, 
or  pond,  or  frozen  in  a storm  ; to  die  of  the  hrain-fever, 
conscience  upbraiding,  hell  opening,  and  foul  spirits  pass- 
ing quick  before  his  vision  to  seize  him  before  his  time — 
this,  this  is  woe ; this  is  the  triumph  of  sin  and  Satan. 
Yet,  in  the  last  ten  years,  300,000  have  died  in  our  land 
the  death  of  the  drunkard  ; rushing,  where  ? — “ Drunkards 
shall  not  inherit  the  kingdom  of  God” — rushing  into  hell, 
w’here  their  w'orm  dieth  not,  and  their  fire  can  never  be 
VOL.  vn. 


10 


PUTNAM  AND  THE  WOLF ; OR, 


quenched.  And  if  the  demon  is  suffered  to  continue  his 
ravages,  300,000  more  of  our  existing  population  will,  in 
the  same  way,  rush  into  eternal  burnings. 

And  his  funeral.  Have  you  ever  been  at  a drunkard’s 
funeral  ? I do  not  ask,  did  you  look  at  his  corpse  ? It 
was  cadaverous  before  he  died.  But  did  you  look  at  his 
father  as  he  bent  over  the  grave  and  exclaimed  in  agony, 
“ 0,  my  son,  my  son,  would  to  God  I had  died  for  thee,  my 
son.”  Did  you  look  at  his  widow,  pale  with  grief,  and  at 
his  ragged,  hunger-bitten  children  at  her  side,  and  see  them 
turn  away  to  share  the  world’s  cold  pity,  or,  perhaps,  re- 
jected and  forlorn,  follow  the  same  path  to  death  and  hell  ? 

Such  are  the  ravages  of  the  demon  we  hunt.  Its  foot- 
steps are  marked  with  blood.  We  glory  in  our  liberties, 
and  every  fourth  of  July  our  bells  ring  a merry  peal,  as  if 
we  were  the  happiest  people  on  earth.  But  0,  our  coun- 
try, our  country ! 'She  has  a worm  at  her  vitals,  making 
fast  a wreck  of  her  Physical  energies,  her  intellect,  and  her 
moral  principle  ; augrpenting  her  pauperism  and  her  crime  ; 
nullifying  her  elections — for  a drunkard  is  not  fit  for  an 
elector — and  preparing'her  for  subjection  to  the  most  merci- 
less tyranny  that  ever  s'tourged  any  nation  under  heaven. 
We  talk  of  our  religion,  and  weep  over  the  delusions  of  the 
false  prophet  and  the  horrors  of  Juggernaut;  but  a more 
deceitful  prophet  is  in  our  churches  than  Mahomet,  and  a 
more  bloody  idol  than  Juggernaut  rolls  through  our  land, 
crushing  beneath  its  wheels  our  sons  and  our  daughters. 
Woe,  woe,  woe  to  Zion.  Satan  is  in  Eden.  And  if  no 
check  is  put  to  the  ravages  of  the  demon,  our  benevolent 
institutions  must  die,  our  sanctuaries  be  forsaken,  our  beau- 
tiful fields  be  wastes,  and  the  church  will  read  the  history 
of  her  offspring  in  the  third  of  Romans : their  throat  is 
an  open  sepulchre  ; their  mouth  is  full  of  cursing  and  bit- 
terness ; their  feet  are  sivift  to  shed  blood — all,  blasting  our 
bright  hope  of  the  speedy  approach  of  millennial  glory. 


THE  MONSTER  DESTROYED. 


11 


There  is  cause,  then,  for  the  general  alarm  that  has  been 
e.xcited  in  our  country ; reason  for  this  extensive  and  power- 
ful combination  to  hunt  and  destroy  the  monster.  Much, 
by  divine  help,  has  been  done.  He  has  been  routed  and 
brought  to  the  light  of  day ; the  mischief  he  has  done  has 
been  exposed ; his  apologists  have  been  confronted  ; he  is 
driven  into  his  den,  and  now  how  can  he  be  destroyed  ? 
That  he  must  be  destroyed  there  can  be  no  question.  The 
man  who  does  not  wish  for  the  suppression  of  intemperance 
must  have  the  heart  of  a fiend ; especially,  if  he  wishes  to 
grow  rich  on  the  miseries  of  his  fellow-men.  And  he  must 
be  destroyed  now.  It  is  now  or  never.  Men  may  say 
enough  has  been  done,  and  talk  about  his  being  held  where 
he  is.  He  cannot  be  lield  there.  He  has  the  cunning  of  a 
serpent,  and  he  will  escape  through  some  fissure  in  the 
rock.  He  is  now  in  our  power.  The  temperance  move- 
ment, which  has  on  it  the  impress  of  the  finger  of  God,  has 
brought  him  within  our  grasp ; and  if  we  let  him  escape, 
the  curse  of  curses  will  be  entailed  upon  our  children. 
How  then  can  he  be  destroyed?  I answer,  and  thousands 
answer,  by  starvation.  No  weapon  can  reach  him  so  long 
as  you  feed  him.  But  who  has  a heart  so  traitorous  to 
humanity  as  to  feed  this  monster  ? Every  man  who  now, 
in  the  face  of  the  light  that  is  shed  upon  this  subject,  dis- 
tils, or  vends,  or  uses  intoxicating  liquor ; every  distillery, 
and  every  dram-shop  in  the  land,  nourishes  this  foe  to 
human  peace ; every  man  who  takes  the  alcohoUc  poison  into 
his  system,  or  imparts  it  to  others,  except  as  he  takes  and 
imparts  other  poisons  to  check  disease,  gives  life  to  the 
beast.  I need  not  stop  to  prove  it.  It  is  manifest  to  the 
child.  Let  every  distillery  in  the  land  cease,  and  every 
dram-shop  be  closed,  and  total  abstinence  become  the  prin- 
ciple of  every  individual,  and  the  demon  Avill  be  dead  ; yes, 
take  away  from  him  his  wine,  his  brandy,  and  his  whiskey, 
and  he  will  perish  for  ever.  But  here  is  the  very  brunt  of 


12 


PUTNAM  AND  THE  WOLF  ; OR, 


the  battle.  We  have  bunted  the  monster  through  the  land, 
and  driven  him  into  his  den ; and  now  we  must  stand  at  the 
very  mouth  of  the  cavern,  and  contend  with  our  fellow-men 
and  fellow-sufferers — yes,  and  fellow-Christians  too — who 
are  either  afraid  to  attack  the  monster,  or  are  determined 
he  shall  live. 

And  first,  Ave  are  met  by  a body  of  men  Avho  tell  us  that 
alcohol  is  useful.  And  what  if  it  is  ? 'VWiat  if  every  benefit 
that  the  moderate  and  immoderate  drinker  can  think  of, 
flows  from  it  ? What  Avill  this  do  to  compensate  for  its 
giant  evils  Avhich  are  desolating  our  land  ? Is  man  so  bent 
on  self-gratification  that  he  Avill  have  every  sweet,  though 
it  be  mingled  with  poison  ? Will  he  exercise  no  reason ; 
make  no  discrimination  between  unmixed  good  and  good 
followed  by  desolating  woes  ? Tea  Avas  good.  But,  said 
our  fathers,  if  Avith  it  we  must  have  all  the  horrors  of  Brit- 
ish tyranny,  aAvay  Avith  it  from  our  dwellings.  Ma'  coun- 
trymen, “ the  voice  of  your  fathers’  blood  cries  to  you  from 
the  ground,  ‘ My  sons,  scorn  to  be  slaves  !’  ” AAvay  Avith 
the  shameful  plea  that  you  cannot  do  Avithout  an  article 
Avhich  subjects  you  to  an  evil  ten  thousand  times  Avorse 
than  all  the  horrors  of  British  tyranny.  You  kindle  the 
fires  of  liberty  by  pointing  to  the  Avoes  of  the  prison-ship, 
and  the  bones  of  your  countrymen  whitening  on  the  shores 
of  Noav  Jersey.  0,  crouch  not  to, a tyrant  Avho  binds  a 
million  in  his  chains,  and  demands  thirty  thousand  annually 
for  his  victims.  I blush  for  the  imbecility  of  the  man  who 
must  have  an  article  on  his  farm  Avhich  eats  up  his  substance 
and  his  vitals,  and  may  turn  his  son  into  an  idiot  and  a brute. 
Better  have  no  farm.  Better  go  at  once,  Avith  his  family, 
into  the  poor-house,  and  be  supported  b}'  public  charity. 

Next  comes  canting  Hypocrisy,  Avith  his  Bible  in  his 
hand,  telling  us  that  “ every  creature  of  God  is  good,  and 
nothings  to  be  refused,  if  it  be  received  Avith  thankssrivinor.” 
What  does  he  mean  ; that  ardent  spirit  is  the  gift  of  God  ? 


THE  MONSTER  DESTROYED. 


13 


Pray,  in  what  stream  of  his  bounty,  from  what  moxmtain 
and  hill  does  it  flow  down  to  man  ? 0,  it  is  in  the  rye,  and 

the  apple,  and  the  sugar,  and  the  Mussulman  has  taught 
us  Christians  how  to  distil  it.  And  so  the  poet  tells  us 
Satan  taught  his  legions  how  to  make  gunpowder.  “ There 
are,”  said  he, 

“ Deep  under  ground,  materials  dark  and  crude, 

Of  spirituous  and  fiery  spume. 

Tliese,  in  their  dark  nativity,  the  deep 
Shall  yield  us,  pregnant  with  internal  flame  ; 

Whicli,  into  hollow  engines,  long  and  round. 

Thick  ramm’d,  at  th’  other  bore  with  touch  of  fire 
Dilated  and  infuriate,  shall  send  forth 
From  far,  with  thundering  noise,  among  our  foes 
Such  implements  of  mischief  as  shall  dash 
To  pieces  and  o’erwhelm  whatever  stands 
Adverse. 

Th’  invention  all  admired ; up  they  turn’d 
Wide  the  celestial  soil ; sulphurous  and  nitrous  foam 
They  found,  they  mingled ; and,  with  subtle  art 
Concocted  and  adjusted,  they  reduced 
To  blackest  grain.” 

And  now,  to  cany  out  the  argument,  gunpowder,  and 
guns,  and  swords,  are  the  gift  of  God,  and  men  must  needs 
use  them,  and  kill  one  another  as  fast  as  possible. 

But  nothing,  it  is  plead,  was  made  in  vain.  Spirit  is 
good  for  something,  and  to  banish  it  from  use,  and  promise 
that  we  will  “touch  not,  taste  not,  handle  not,”  is  con- 
tempt of  the  works  of  God.  I should  like  to  have  seen 
what  the  Pomfret  hero  would  have  done  with  a man  who 
should  have  stood  before  him,  and  said.  Don’t  you  destroy 
that  wolf ; God  made  it,  and  it  may  be  good  for  some- 
thing. 

Next,  we  are  checked  in  our  principle  of  starvation  by 
a set  of  thoughtless  youth  and  presumptuous  men,  who  say 


14 


PUTNAM  AND  THE  WOLF;  OR, 


there  is  no  clanger  from  the  demon  if  we  keep  him  low. 
All  his  ravages  have  been  occasioned  by  his  being  full  fed. 
Let  him  sip  but  little,  feed  him  prudently,  and  he  will  do 
no  harm. 

“ Good,”  says  the  demon,  growling  in  his  den  ; “that 
is  all  I want.  The  doctrine  of  prudent  use  is  the  basis  of 
my  kingdom.  Temperate  drinking  has  made  all  the  drunk- 
ards in  the  land,  and  keep  it  up  in  all  your  towns  and  vil- 
lages, and  I shall  be  satisfied.” 

0 the  delusion  ! Prudent  use  ! What  is  the  testimony 
of  every  chemist  and  physician  in  the  land  ? Alcohol  is  a 
poison. 

“Not  a bloodvessel,”  says  Dr.  Mussey,  “however 
minute,  not  a thread  of  nerve  in  the  whole  animal  machine 
escapes  its  influence.  It  disturbs  the  functions  of  life ; it 
increases  for  a time  the  action  of  the  living  organs,  but  less- 
ens the  power  of  that  action ; hence  the  deep  depression 
and  collapse  which  follow  preternatural  excitement.  By 
habitual  use  it  renders  the  living  fibre  less  and  less  suscep- 
tible to  the  health}'  operation  of  unstimulating  food  and 
drink,  its  exciting  influences  soon  become  incorporated  with 
all  the  living  actions  of  the  body,  and  the  diurnal  sensations 
of  hunger,  thirst,  and  exhaustion,  are  strongly  associated 
with  the  recollection  of  its  exhilarating  effects,  and  thus 
bring  along  with  them  the  resistless  desire  for  its  repeti- 
tion.” More  than  fifty  per  cent,  of  common  spirits  are  alco- 
hol, this  deadly  substance,  holding  rank  with  henbane, 
hemlock,  prussic  acid,  foxglove,  poison  sumach.  Nausea, 
vertigo,  vomiting,  exhilaration  of  spirits  for  a time,  and 
subsequent  stupor,  and  even  total  insensibility  and  death, 
are  their  accompaniments.  Broussais  remarks,  “ A single 
portion  of  ardent  spirit  taken  into  the  stomach  produces  a 
temporary  phlogosis.”  Now,  I submit  it  to  every  consid- 
erate man,  whether  there  can  be  any  prudent  use  of  a poi- 
son, a single  portion  of  which  produces  the  same  disease  of 


THE  MONSTER  BESTROYED. 


15 


which  the  drunkard  dies,  and  a disease  which  brings  along 
with  it  a resistless  desire  for  a repetition  of  the  draught. 

Thoughtless,  self-sufficient  men  say,  they  can  control 
this  desire,  can  govern  their  appetite,  can  enjoy  the  exhila- 
ration of  strong  drink,  and  yet  be  temperate.  Let  them 
look  at  the  poor  inebriate  wallowing  in  his  pollution.  He 
once  stood  just  where  they  stand ; boasted  just  as  they 
boast ; had  as  fair  character,  and  as  kind  friends,  and  as 
precious  a soul  and  bright  hopes  of  heaven  as  they  have. 
Let  them  tell  why  he  does  not  control  his  appetite.  Per- 
haps they  say,  he  is  a fool.  Ah,  what  made  him  a fool  ? 
Or,  his  reason  is  gone.  And  what  took  away  his  reason  ? 
Or,  he  has  lost  his  character.  And  what  took  away  his 
character?  Or,  his  sense  of  shame  is  departed.  And 
what  took  away  his  sense  of  shame  ? Ah,  here  is  the 
dreadful  secret,  which  it  may  be  well  for  all,  boasting  of 
their  power  of  self-control,  to  know.  At  the  very  moment 
when  the  man  thinks  he  stands  firm,  and  reason  can  control 
appetite,  his  moral  sense  departs,  his  shame  is  gone,  and 
he  turns,  through  the  power  of  his  morning  bitters  and  oft- 
repeated  drams,  into  the  brute  and  the  maniac.  With  the 
moral  sensibilities  laid  waste,  reason  here  has  only  the 
power  of  the  helmsman  before  the  whirlwind.  “ Twenty 
years  ago,”  says  Nott,  “ a respectable  householder  came  in 
the  morning  with  a glass  of  bitters  in  his  hand,  and  offered 
it  to  his  guest,  saying,  ‘ Take  it ; it  will  do  you  good.  I 
have  taken  it  for  some  years,  and  I think  it  does  me  good  ; 
and  I never  want  any  more.’  Time  passed  on,  and  pres- 
ently the  bottle  of  bitters  in  the  closet  was  exchanged  for 
the  barrel  of  whiskey  in  the  cellar ; and  the  poor  man  was 
often  at  the  tap  for  just  as  much  as  would,  do  him  good, 
and  he  never  wanted  any  more.  Time  passed  on,  and  a 
hogshead  was  needful ; and  its  contents  were  exhausted 
with  the  same  intent,  and  the  same  self-deceivings.  At 
length  the  home  of  his  family  was  relinquished  to  his  cred- 


PUTiVAM  AND  THE  WOLF;  OR 


16 

itors ; his  polluted  body  ^yas  lodged  in  a jail,  from  which 
he  presently  issued  a drunken  vagabond,  and  Avandered  a 
wretched  being,  until  he  found  a drunkard’s  grave.”  It  is 
but  the  history  of  thousands.  No  laAVS  of  nature  act  Avith 
more  uniformity  than  the  laAvs  of  intemperance.  No  inocu- 
lation sends  with  more  certainty  disease  into  the  system  than 
drinking  strong  drink.  Hundreds  have  made  an  agonizing 
struggle  to  escape  from  perdition.  They  have  seen  their 
sin  and  danger ; they  have  Avalked  the  streets  in  agony  ; they 
have  gone  to  their  homes  and  looked  at  their  wives  and 
children,  and  into  the  pit  of  despair.  But  their  feverish 
stomach  has  cried.  Give,  give!  and  they  have  drank  often 
and  often,  Avith  the  solemn  promise  that  it  should  be  the  last 
time  ; until  they  have  exclaimed,  Avith  a once  interesting 
youth,  “ I know  I am  a ruined  man,  but  I cannot  stop.” 

Some,  indeed,  through  much  care  and  strength  of  con- 
stitution,  may  escape ; but  the  plague,  if  it  appear  not  in 
their  skin  and  their  bone,  may  break  out  in  their  children. 
“I  Avill  drink  some,”  said  an  aged  deacon  of  a church  of 
Christ,  “ for  it  does  me  good.”  God  aa'us  merciful,  though 
he  tempted  Heaven,  and  it  is  said  that  -he  died  with  his 
character  untarnished ; but  six  loathsome  sons  drank  up  his 
substance,  Avith  the  leprosy  in  their  foreheads.  AYhat  a 
meeting  must  there  be  betAveen  that  deacon  and  his  sons  on 
the  judgment-day  1 The  doctrine  of  prudent  use  must  be 
abandoned.  It  can  have  no  standard.  Every  man  thinks 
he  drinks  prudently,  Avhether  he  takes  one  glass  a day  or 
five,  and  is  just  as  much  excited  and  just  as  liable  to  drunk- 
enness as  all  drunkards  Avere  Avhen  they  stood  where  he 
now  stands.  He  only  that  entirely  abstains  can  properly  be 
called  a temperate  man.  And  he^only  is  clear  from  the 
guilt  of  spreading  intemperance  through  the  land.  Mode- 
rate drinkers  are  the  life  of  this  bloody  system  which  is 
AA'ringing  Avith  agony  the  hearts  of  thousands.  Did  all  at 
once  drink  to  excess,  alcohol  Avould  be  vieAved  with  dread. 


THE  MONSTER  DESTROYED. 


17 


as  is  laudanum  and  arsenic.  Better  that  all  who  tasted  it 
were  at  once  made  drunkards  ; then,  drunkards  would  be  as 
scarce  as  suicides.  But  men  now  sip  moderately  and  are 
reputable ; they  think  themselves  safe,  but  one  in  every 
forty  sinks  to  drunkenness  ; and  thus,  among  twelve  millions 
of  people,  drinking  moderately,  the  demon  has  perpetually 
300,000  victims.  And  for  these,  while  all  are  thus  paying 
homage  to  the  bottle,  what  is  the  hope  ? The  lost  wretch 
may  wake  from  his  brutality  and  crime,  and  resolve  that  he 
will  reform,  and  his  broken-hearted  wife  may  hope  that  the 
storms  of  life  are  over,  and  his  babes  may  smile  at  his 
strange  kindness  and  care ; but  the  universal  presence  of 
the  intoxicating  fluid,  and  the  example  of  the  wise  and  the 
good  around  him,  will  thwart  all  his  resolutions,  and  he  will 
go  back,  like  the  dog  to  his  vomit.  All  the  drunkenness, 
then,  that  shall  pollute  our  land,  must  be  traced  to  mode- 
rate drinkers.  They  feed  the  monster.  They  keep  in  coun- 
tenance the  distilleiy  and  the  dram-shop,  and  every  drunk- 
ard that  reels  in  the  sti-eets.  Moderate  use  is  to  this  kingdom 
of  blood  what  the  thousand  rivulets  and  streams  are  to  the 
mighty  river.  0 how  have  we  been  deceived.  We  long- 
searched  for  the  poison  that  was  destroying  our  life.  The 
drop  said.  It  is  not  in  me — I am  but  a drop,  and  can  do  no 
harm.  The  little  stream  said.  It  is  not  me.  Am  I not  a 
little  one,  and  can  do  no  harm  ? And  the  demon  Intem- 
perance, as  she  prowled  around  us,  said.  Let  my  drops  and 
my  rivulets  alone  ; they  can  do  no  harm.  Go  stop,  if  you 
can,  the  mighty  river.  We  believed  her.  But  the  river 
baffled  our  efforts.  Its  torrents  rolled  on,  and  we  contented 
ourselves  with  snatching  here  and  there  a youth  from  de- 
struction. But  we  now  see  that  the  poison  is  in  the  drops 
and  the  rivulets  ; and  that  without  these,  that  river  of  death, 
which  is  sweeping  the  young  and  the  old  into  the  ocean  of 
despair,  would  cease  for  ever.  And  we  call  upon  these 
self-styled  prudent,  temperate  drinkers,  to  pause  and  look 

VOT,.  VII. 


18 


PUTMAM  AND  THE  WOLF;  OR, 


at  the  tremendous  responsibility  and  guilt  of  entailing  drunk- 
enness upon  their  country  for  ever. 

But  we  are  met  with  more  serious  opposers  to  the  plan 
of  starvation.  They  are,  they  say,  the  bone  and  muscle  of 
the  country.  They  come  from  the  farms,  the  shipyards, 
and  workshops,  and  say.  If  you  starve  out  this  monster,  we 
shall  be  starved  out,  for  we  cannot  do  our  work  and  get  a 
living  without  rum  or  whiskey  ; though,  according  to  their 
own  confession,  they  have  found  it  hard  living  with.  Their 
rum  and  their  whiskey  have  cost  them  double  and  treble 
their  other  taxes — their  sons  have  become  vile,  their  work- 
men turbulent,  their  tools  have  been  broken,  and  many  of 
themselves  are  already  sinking  under  its  enfeebling  influ- 
ence. 

With  such  it  is  hard  to  reason.  They  have  tried  but 
one  side,  and  are  incapable  of  judging  the  case.  , We  can 
only  tell  them  there  is  no  danger.  Not  a particle  of  nom-- 
ishment  does  spirit  aft'ord  them..  The  hard  drinker  totters 
as  he  walks.  The  poor  inebriate  can  neither  stand  nor  go. 
We  can  point  them  to  hundreds  and  thousands  of  their  own 
profession,  honest  men,  who  solemnly  testif}’  that  they  are 
healthier  and  stronger,  can  perform  more  labor,  and  endure 
the  frosts  of  winter  and  heat  of  summer  better  M'itbout  it 
than  with  it.  We  can  ask  them  whether  they  fully  believe 
that  the  God  of  heaven,  a God  of  love,  has  put  them  under 
the  dire  necessity  of  using  daily  an  article  which,  with  such 
awful  certainty,  makes  drunkards ; and  whether,  when  he 
has  said.  Woe  to  him  that  giveth  his  neighbor  drink,  he  has 
said,  too,  you  must  all  drink  it ; it  is  necessary  for  you.  But 
such  never  can  be  taught  and  convinced  but  by  experience ; 
and  to  such  we  would  say.  Try  it  for  yourselves. 

Our  next  opposition,  gentlemen,  is  from  a band  clothed 
in  white — professors  of  our  holy  religion — enlisted  soldiers 
of  Christ,  engaged  to  ever}^  work  of  benevolence : they 
come — 0 tell  it  not  in  Gath ! — to  intercede  for  the  monster. 


THE  MONSTER  DESTROYED. 


19 


and  oppose  our  enterprise.  Is  not  this,  3'ou  ask,  a libel  ? 
Alas,  too  often,  reports  of  temperance  societies  tell  of  oppo- 
sition from  professors  of  religion. 

What  can  be  the  meaning  of  this  ? Has  not  intempci'- 
ance  been  the  greatest  curse  to  the  church  ? Has  it  not 
caused  her  to  bleed  at  every  pore  ? And  have  not  her 
members  cried  to  heaven  that  the  destroyer  might  perish  ? 
And  now,  when  God  has  put  into  their  hands  a weapon  by 
which  it  may  at  once  be  exterminated,  will  they  hesitate  ? 
Will  they  hang  back  ? Will  they  sa}"-,  we  cannot  make  the 
sacrifice  ? 0 where  lies  this  astonishing  witcheiy  ? What 

has  put  the  church  to  sleep  ? What  has  made  her  angry  at 
the  call  to  come  out  from  the  embrace  of  her  deadliest  foe  ? 
0 what  has  he,  who  drinks  the  cup  of  the  Lord,  to  do  with 
the  cup  of  devils  ? Does  he  need  it  to  make  him  serious  01 
prayerful,  or  to  enable  him  better  to  understand  the  word 
of  God,  or  bear  reproach  for  Christ,  or  discharge  his  Chris- 
tian duties,  or  open  his  heart  in  charity  ? Does  it  not  palsy 
the  heart,  quench  the  spirit  of  prayer,  seal  up  every  holy 
and  benevolent  feeling,  and  turn  many  from  Christ,  that 
they  walk  no  more  with  him  ? What  can  a professor  mean 
who  refuses  to  enlist  under  the  temperance  banner  ? Does 
he  really  want  the  monster  to  live  ? Does  he  pray  that  he 
may  ? Will  he  stand  aloof  from  this  conflict  ? Is  he  de- 
termined to  deny  himself  in  nothing  ? To  care  not  if  others 
perish  ? To  risk  shipwreck  of  character  and  conscience, 
and  to  keep  in  countenance  every  drunkard  and  dram-shop 
around  him  ? Is  it  nothing  to  him  that  intemperance  shall 
spread  like  a malaria,  to  every  city,  and  village,  and  neigh- 
borhood, until  the  land  shall  send  up  nothing  but  the  vapors 
of  a moral  putrefaction,  and  none  shall  here  pray,  or  preach, 
or  seek  God  ; but  ignorance,  and  crime,  and  suffering,  with- 
ering  comfort  and  hope,  shall  go  hand  in  hand,  until  we  can 
be  purified  only  by  a rain  of  fire  and  brimstone  from  heaven 
0 for  shame,  for  shame  ! Let  the  Christian,  pleading  for  a 


20 


PUTNAM  AND  THE  WOLF  ; OU, 


little  intoxicating  liquor,  be  alarmed ; let  him  escape  as  for 
his  life  from  the  kingdom  of  darkness.  “ Come  out  of  her, 
my  people,  that  ye  be  not  partakers  of  her  sins,  and  that 
ye  receive  not  of  her  plagues.” 

Next  to  diseased  appetite,  the  love  of  money  is  the  most 
potent  principle  in  the  breast  of  depraved  man.  Thirty-six 
thousand  distillers,  and  eighty-five  thousand  venders  of 
ardent  spirits  in  our  land,  form  a tremendous  host  in  oppo- 
sition to  our  enterprise.  They  live  everywhere. 

“ Pass  where  we  may,  through  city  or  through  toivn 
Village  or  hamlet,  of  this  merry  land,  ■ 

* * * * every  twentieth  pac.e 

Conducts  the  unguarded  nose  to  such  a whiff 
Of  stale  debauch,  forth  issuing  from  the  sties 
That  law  has  licensed,  as  makes  Temperance  reel.” 

They  live  wherever  the  demon  has  his  haunts.  Or  rather, 
he  lives  wliere  they  live  ; for  they  feed  him.  And  while  he 
fattens  on  the  article  they  make  and  vend,  they  receive  in 
return  the  silver  and  gold  of  his  deluded  victims.  Now, 
how  can  this  formidable  host,  who  cry  out.  Our  craft  is  in 
danger,  by  this  demon  we  have  our  wealth — how  can  they 
be  met?  Can  they  be  met  at  all?  Yes,  they  can — for 
they  are  men  ; generally  reputable  men ; in  cases  not  a few, 
pious  men ; and  all  have  consciences,  and  may  be  made  to 
feel  their  accountableness  to  God.  Now  let  them  be  told 
that  they  keep  this  monster  alive ; that  to  their  distilleries 
and  shops  may  be  traced  all  the  povert)',  and  contention, 
and  tears,  and  blood,  which  drunkenness  produces ; that 
their  occupation  is  to  poison  the  young  and  the  old  ; and  by 
dealing  out  gallons,  and  quarts,  and  pints,  and  gills,  they 
fill  up,  with  drunkartis,  the  highway  to  hell ; that  they  do 
all  this  to  get  the  pSoney  of  the  wretched  victims ; that  the 
tears  of  broken-hearted  widows  and  orphan  children  are 
entering  into  the  ears  of  the  Lord  of  Sabaoth,  and  that  nei- 
ther God  nor  their  consciences  will  hold  them  guiltless  in 


THE  MONSTER  DESTROYED. 


21 


this  thing,  and  sure  I am  that  they  will  be  filled  rvith  hor- 
ror at  their  own  doings,  and  quit  their  business. 

If  there  are  some  so  hardened  and  dead  to  all  the  best 
interests  of  men  as  to  persist,  against  the  light  of  the  age, 
in  the  business  of  making  drunkards,  let  public  indignation 
burn  against  them  till  they  can  no  longer  stand  before  its 
fires.  Let  a distillery  be  viewed  as  a man  would  view  the 
inquisition,  where  the  racks,  the  tortures,  and  the  fires,  con- 
sume the  innocent.  Let  the  dram-shop  be  ranked,  as  Judge 
Dagget  says  it  should  be,  with  the  haunts  of  counterfeiters, 
the  depositories  of  stolen  goods,  and  the  retreats  of  thieves ; 
and  over  its  door  let  it  be  written,  “ The  way  to  hell,  lead- 
ing down  to  the  chambers  of  death.”  The  time  has  been 
when  a vender  could  deal  out,  day  by  day,  the  liquid  poison 
to  the  tottering  drunkard,  attend  his  funeral,  help  lay  him 
in  the  grave  ; then  go  home,  post  up  his  books,  turn  the 
widow  and  her  babes  into  the  streets  to  perish,  with  hunger 
or  be  supported  by  charity,  and  }^et  sustain  a good  reputa- 
tion. But  in  future,  whenever  the  community  shall  stand 
around  the  grave  of  a drunkard,  let  the  eyes  of  all  be  fixed 
on  the  inhuman  vender ; let  him  be  called  to  take  one  sol- 
emn look  into  the  grave  of  the  slain  and  the  pit  of  the 
damned  ; and  if  he  will  return  to  the  ruin  of  his  fellow-men, 
let  the  voice  of  his  brother’s  blood  cry  to  him  from  the 
ground,  and  his  punishment  be  greater  than  he  can  bear. 

Perhaps  some  reputable  vender  is  offended  at  the  free- 
dom of  these  remarks.  I would  ask  him  if  he  has  never 
been  offended  at  the  smell  of  that  filthy  drunkard  who  has 
hung  around  him  ? I would  ask  him  if  his  conscience  has 
never  stung'  him  as  ragged  children  have  come  to  him  in 
bleak  November  to  have  him  fill  their  father’s  bottle  ? I 
would  ask  him  if  his  soul  has  never  shook  within  him  as  he 
passed,  in  the  darkness  of  night,  the  graveyard  where  three, 
four,  or  five  of  his  neighbors  lie  without  even  a tombstone, 
who  found  their  death  at  bis  counter  ? His  traffic  may  be 

Temp.  Vol.  b 


22 


PUTNAM  AND  THE  WOLF  , OR, 


profitable,  but  let  bim  beware  lest  while  be  feeds  the  mon- 
ster it  turns  and  devours  him  and  his  oflFspring.  At  least, 
let  him  solemnly  inquire,  before  God,  whether  he  can  be  a 
virtuous  man  and  knowingly  promote  vice  ; or  an  honest 
man,  and  rob  his  neighbor  by  selling  an  article  which  pro- 
motes sorrow,  disease,  and  death. 

I congratulate  you,  gentlemen,  on  the  stand  which  you 
have  taken  against  the  monster  Intemperance,  and  on  the 
success  with  which  your  efforts  have  been  crowned.  You 
are  doing  a work  for  this  country  for  which  future  genera- 
tions will  call  3mu  blessed.  Let  your  watchword  be  onward, 
extermination,  death  ; and  victory  will  be  yours.  Our  weap- 
ons are  simple,  but  mighty.  0 what  a discovery  is  this 
principle  of  entire  abstinence  ! Let  the  name  of  its  author 
be  embalmed  with  that  of  Luther,  and  Howard,  and  Raikes, 
and  Wilberforce.  What  has  it  not  already  done  for  our  suf- 
fering country  ! What  a change  meets  the  eye  as  it  wanders 
from  Georgia  to  Maine — from  the  Atlantic  to  our  western 
borders.  Here  we  see  farms  tilled  ; there  buildings  raised  ; 
here  churches  built ; there  vessels  reared,  launched,  and 
navigated  too  ; manufactories  conducted ; fisheries  carried 
on  ; prisons  governed  ; commercial  business  transacted ; 
journeys  performed  ; physicians  visiting  their  patients  ; leg- 
islators enacting  laws  ; lawyers  pleading  for  justice;  judges 
deciding  the  fate  of  men,  and  ministers  preaching  the  ever- 
lasting Gospel — without  intoxicating  liquor.  Here  we  see 
importers  unwilling  to  risk  the  importation  of  spirituous 
liquor  into  the  land  ; there  distillers  abandoning  their  distil- 
leries as  curses  to  themselves  and  the  community ; and  mer- 
chants, not  a few,  expelling  the  poison  from  their  stores, 
and  some  pouring  it  upon  the  ground,  choosing  that  the 
earth  should  swallow  it  rather  than  man.  And  all  this  in 
the  short  space  of  three  j'ears.  What  has  done  it  ? Entire 
abstinence.  What  then  will  not  be  done,  when,  instead  of 
50,000  who  now  avow  it,  500,000  shall  give  their  pledge 


THE  MONSTER  DESTROYED. 


23 


that  they  will  abandon  a kingdom  founded  in  blood.  And 
can  they  not  be  found  in  this  land  of  humane  men,  and  pa- 
triots, and  Christians  ? Yes,  they  can.  Onward  then,  gen- 
tlemen. Listen  not  to  those  who  say  you  are  carrying  mat- 
ters too  far.  So  said  the  wolf.  She  loved  life,  and  she 
loved  blood.  But  did  she  ever  regard  the  cry  of  the  sheep  ? 
The  monster  Intemperance  has  been  glutted  with  blood ; 
and  never  spared,  and  had  no  pity.  He  still  howls  for 
blood  ; and  many  plead  that  he  may  have  some.  But  de- 
pend upon  it,  their  pleas  are  only  those  of  debased  appetite 
and  avarice.  Rally  the  community  against  them.  Enlighten 
the  public  mind.  Collect  facts.  Let  your  towns  and  vil- 
lages be  searched  with  candles.  Go  into  the  dens.  Bring 
the  monster  and  his  suffering  victims  to  light,  and  the  pub- 
lic indignation  will  no  longer  slumber. 

Of  one  thing  I will  remind  you.  The  demon  will  daunt 
the  timid.  It  is  noisy  and  fiery.  Attack  it,  and  it  will  roll 
its  eyes,  and  snap  its  teeth,  and  threaten  vengeance.  At- 
tempt to  starve  it,  and  it  will  rave  like  the  famished  tiger. 
Thousands  have  fed  it  against  their  consciences,  rather  than 
meet  its  fury.  But  fear  not.  The  use  of  ardent  spirit 
meets  no  support  in  the  Bible  or  tbe  conscience,  and  the 
traffic  meets  none.  Be  firm.  Be  decided.  Be  courageous. 
Connect  your  cause  with  heaven.  It  is  the  cause  of  God ; 
the  cause  for  which  Immanuel  died.  0,  as  men  and  pa- 
triots, banish  intemperance,  with  all  its  sources,  from  your 
country  and  the  land.  As  ministers  and  Christians,  banish 
it  for  ever  from  the  churches  of  the  living  God.  Let  the 
demon  no  longer  hide  in  the  sanctuary.  Let  entire  ab- 
stinence be  written  in  capitals  over  the  door  of  every 
church.  Expel  for  ever  the  accursed  enemy,  that  the  Spirit 
of  the  Lord  may  descend  and  bless  us  with  life  and  peace. 

To  those  not  connected  with  the  Temperance  Associa- 
tion, I Avould  say,  Look  at  this  enterprise.  It  injures  no 
man,  wrongs  no  man,  defrauds  no  man,  has  no  sectarian  or 


24 


PUTNAM  AND  THE  WOLF. 


political  object  in  view ; it  would  only  relieve  our  infant 
nation  of  a burden  and  a curse  which  is  fast  placing  it  side 
by  side  with  buried  Sodom.  As  wise  men,  judge  ye  of  its 
importance  and  merits.  As  men  hastening  to  judgment, 
act  in  relation  to  it.  A solemn  responsibility  rests  upon 
jmu.  Shall  the  land  now  be  rid  of  intemperance?  You 
reply,  Yes — and  talk  of  wholesome  laws,  and  high  licenses, 
and  prudent  use.  Three  green  withes  on  Samson  ! Entire 
abstinence  is  the  only  weapon  which  will  destroy  the  mon- 
ster. “ But  we  can  practise  that  without  giving  our  pledge.” 
True.  But  until  you  give  it,  he  will  count  you  his  friend 
and  haunt  your  dwelling.  In  this  cause  there  is  no  neu- 
trality. Have  you  supported  this  cniel  kingdom  of  dark- 
ness and  death  ? Will  you  do  it  longer  ? Shall  conscience 
be  riven  by  the  act  ? Shall  the  land  that  bears  you  be 
cursed ; the  young  around  you  be  sporting  with  hell ; the 
UAvakened  sinner  be  drowning  conviction  at  his  bottle  ; the 
once  fair  communicant  be  disgraced ; the  once  happy  con- 
gregation be  rent ; its  ministiy  be  driven  from  the  altar,  and 
its  sanctuary  crumble  to  ruin  ? Shall  our  benevolent  insti- 
tutions fail,  and  our  liberties  be  sacrificed  ? Shall  God  be 
grieved  ? Shall  Availings  from  the  bottomless  pit  hereafter 
reproach  and  agonize  you  as  the  cause  of  the  ruin,  perhaps 
of  your  children  and  children’s  children  ? ^lethinks  one 
common  pulsation  beats  in  your  hearts,  and  you  answer. 
No — no.  Methinksil  see  you  rising  in  the  majesty  of 
freemen  and  Christians,  in  behalf  of  an  injured  covmtry  and 
church,  and  destroying  at  once  the  demon  among  you. 


ARGUMENT  AGAINST  THE  MANUEACTURE 


OF 

ardent  SPIRITS; 

ADDRESSED  TO 

THE  DISTILLER  AND  THE  FCRNISIIER  OF  THE  MATERIALS 

BY  REV.  EDWARD  HITCHCOCK,  D.  D. 

A SENSE  of  duty  impels  me  to  address  this  portion  of 
my  fellow-citizens,  in  the  hope  that  I may  persuade  them 
to  abandon  the  employment  by  which  they  furnish  ardent 
spirits  to  the  community.  I am  not  about  to  charge  them 
as  the  intentional  authors  of  all  the  evils  our  country  suf- 
fers from  intemperance,  nor  wholly  to  clear  myself  from 
the  guilt ; for  some  of  these  men  are  my  neighbors  and 
personal  friends,  and  I know  them  to  be  convinced  that  the 
excessive  use  of  ardent  spirits  is  a frightful  evil  among  us, 
and  that  they  would  cheerfully  join  in  some  measures  for 
its  suppression,  though  not  yet  satisfied  that  those  now  in 
train  are  judicious  or  necessary.  Not  long  ago,  I Avas  in 
essentially  the  same  state  of  mind,  and  encouraged  these 
men  in  the  manufacture  of  spirits,  by  the  purchase  and  use 
of  them.  Now  I would  fain  believe  that  the  minds  of  all 
these  individuals  are  open  to  conviction,  and  that  the  same 
arguments  which  satisfied  me  that  I Avas  Avrong,  Avill  satisfy 
them. 

In  the  first  place,  therefore,  I would  reason  with  these 
men  as  a chemical  pMlosoj)her.  The  distiller  is  a prac- 
tical chemist ; and  although  he  may  never  have  studied 

VOL.  VII. 


2 


ARGUMENT  AGAINST  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


chemistry  in  the  schools,  he  cannot  but  have  often  thoughl 
of  the  theory  of  his  operations.  And  the  farmer  who  re- 
ceives at  the  distillery,  in  return  for  his  rye,  cider,  or  molas- 
ses, a liquid  poweidul  substance,  obtained  from  them,  will 
very  naturally  inquire  by  what  strange  transformation  these 
articles  have  been  made  to  yield  something  apparently  so 
very  different  from  their  nature.  Probably,  some  of  them 
may  have  concluded  that  the  spirits  exist  naturally  in  the 
grain,  and  apples,  and  sugar-cane,  just  as  ffour,  and  cider, 
and  molasses  do.  And  hence  they  have  inferred,  first,  that 
God  intended  the  spirits  for  the  use  of  man,  as  much  as 
the  flour,  the  apples,  or  the  molasses  ; and  that  it  is  just  as 
proper  to  separate  the  spirits  by  distillation,  as  it  is  to 
obtain  the  flour  by  grinding  and  bolting.  Secondly,  that 
there  can  be  nothing  injurious  or  poisonous  in  the  spirits, 
any  more  than  in  the  apples,  the  grain,  or  the  molasses ; 
the  only  injury,  in  either  case,  resulting  from  using  too 
much.  Thirdl}",  that  spirits  must  be  nourishing  to  the  body, 
constituting,  as  they  seem  to  do,  the  very  essence  of  the 
fruit,  grain,  and  molasses,  which  are  confessedly  nutritious. 

Now,  these  inferences  are  all  rendered  null  and  void  by 
the  fact  that  ardent  spirits,  or  alcohol,  which  is  their  es- 
sence, do  not  exist  naturally  in  apples,  grain,  or  sugar- 
cane. No  one  ever  perceived  the  odor  or  the  taste  of 
alcohol  in  apples,  or  the  cider  obtained  from  them,  while  it 
wms  new  and  sweet ; but  after  it  had  fermented  for  a time, 
by  a due  degree  of  warmth,  the  sweetness  in  a measure 
disappeared,  and  alcohol  was  found  to  be  present.  And  just 
so  in  obtaining  spirits  from  rye,  or  any  other  substance  ; a 
sweet  liquor  is  at  first  obtained,  which,  by  fermentation,  is 
found  to  be  partly  converted  into  alcohol.  This  sweetness 
results  from  the  sugar  which  the  substances  natm-ally  con- 
tain, or  winch  is  formed  by  the  process.  This  sugar  is  next 
destroyed,  or  decomposed,  bf  the  fermentation,  and  its 
parts  go  to  make  up  a new  substance,  then  first  brought 
into  e.xistence,  called  alcohol.  If  the  fermentation  be  CJtr- 


ARGUMENT  AGAINST  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


3 


ried  on  still  farther,  another  new  substance  is  produced, 
viz.,  vinegar.  Carried  still  farther,  putrid,  unhealthy  ex- 
halations are  the  result,  such  as  we  find  rising  from  swamps 
and  other  places  where  vegetable  matter  is  decaying.  If, 
then,  we  may  conclude,  because  alcohol  is  obtained  from 
grain  and  other  nutritious  substances,  that  therefore  God 
intended  it  for  the  use  of  man,  the  same  reason  will  show 
that  he  intended  man  should  breathe  these  poisonous  ex- 
halations. If  alcohol  cannot  be  poisonous  or  injurious, 
because  derived  from  harmless  and  salutary  substances, 
neither  can  these  exhalations  be  so ; nor,  indeed,  those 
more  putrid  and  deadly  ones  arising  from  the  putrefaction 
of  sweet  animal  food.  And  if  alcohol  must  be  nutritious, 
because  apples,  grain,  and  molasses  are  so,  it  follows  that 
these  exhalations  are  nutritious. 

Having  thus  explained  the  chemistry  of  this  subject,  I 
would,  secondly,  address  these  men  as  a. physician.  I mean 
merely,  that  I wish  to  present  before  them  the  views  of  the 
most  distinguished  and  impartial  physicians  concerning  ar- 
dent spirits.  It  is  important,  then,  to  remark,  that  physicians 
have  decided  that  alcohol  is  a powerful  poison.  And  how 
do  they  prove  this  ? Simply  by  comparing  its  effects  with 
those  of  other  poisons — particularly  the  poisons  derived, 
as  alcohol  is,  from  vegetables — such  as  henbane,  poison 
hemlock,  prussic  acid,  thorn-apples,  deadly  nightshade, 
foxglove,  poison  sumach,  oil  of  tobacco,  and  the  essence  of 
opium.  These  poisons,  taken  in  different  quantities,  ac- 
cording to  their  strength,  produce  nausea,  dizziness,  exhila- 
ration of  spirits  with  subsequent  debility,  and  even  total 
insensibility ; in  other  cases,  delirium  and  death  ; and  alco- 
hol does  the  same.  These  poisons  weaken  the  stomach, 
impair  the  memory  and  all  the  powers  of  the  mind,  and 
sometimes  bring  on  palsy,  apoplexy,  and  other  violent  dis- 
orders ; and  so  does  alcohol.  Do  you  say  that  ardent 
spirits,  as  they  are  commonly  drank,  do  not  produce  these 
efi'ects  except  in  a very  slight  degree  ? Neither  do  these 


4 ARGUMENT  AGAINST  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 

substances,  when  much  Aveakened  by  mixture  with  other 
things.  Even  rum  and  brandy,  of  the  first  proof,  contain 
only  about  fifty  parts  of  alcohol  in  the  hundred  ; and  even 
the  high  wines,  as  they  are  called,  are  by  no  means  pure 
alcohol ; yet  less  than  an  ounce  of  proof  sphits,  given  to  a 
rabbit,  killed  it  in  less  than  an  hour.  Three  quarters  of  an 
ounce  of  alcohol,  introduced  into  the  stomach  of  a large 
and  robust  dog,  killed  him  in  three  and  a half  hours.  In 
larger  quantities,  as  almost  every  one  knows,  this  same 
substance  has  proved  immediately  fatal  to  men.  Do  you 
say  that  many  drink  spirits  for  years,  and  are  not  destroy- 
ed ; and  do  you  hence  inquire  how  they  can  be  poisonous  ? 
So  I reply,  not  a few  take  small  quantities  of  other  poisons 
every  day  for  years,  and  continue  alive.  A horse,  indeed, 
may  take  the  eighth  part  of  an  ounce  of  arsenic  every  day, 
and  yet  be  thriving.  But  how  many  are  there,  do  you  sup- 
pose, Avho  habitually  drink  ardent  sphlts,  and  yet  suffer  no 
bad  effects  from  it  ? Have  they  no  stomach  complaints,  no 
nervous  maladies,  no  headaches?  Do  they  live  to  a great 
age  ? Not  one  out  of  a hundred  of  those  Avho  daily  drink 
ardent  spirits,  escapes  uninjured  ; though  their  sickness  and 
premature  decay,  resulting  from  this  cause,  are  generally 
imputed  to  other  causes ; and  as  many  as  this  Avould  es- 
cape if  arsenic  were  used,  in  moderate  quantities,  instead 
of  spirits. 

Farmers  and  distillers,  whom  I address,  pause,  I beseech 
you,  and  meditate  upon  this  fact.  It  is  poison  into  Avhich 
you  convert  your  rye  and  apples  ; it  is  poison  winch,  under 
the  name  of  Avhiskey  and  cider-brandy,  you  put  into  your 
cellars ; it  is  poison  which  you  draw  out  from  the  brandy 
and  Avhiskey  casks  for  drink,  .and  which  you  ofi'er  your 
children  and  friends  for  diink ; it  is  poison  Avhich  you  sell 
to  your  neighbors  ; it  is  producing  the  same  effects  as  other 
poisons  upon  you  and  upon  them ; that  is,  it  is  undermining 
your  constitutions,  and  shortening  your  lives  and  happi- 
ness. You  would  not  dare  thus  to  manufacture  and  dis- 


ARGUMENT  AGAINST  ARDEN'T  SPIRITS. 


5 


tribute  among  the  community  calomel  or  arsenic,  if  these, 
were  in  use,  leaving  it  to  every  man  to  determine  how  large 
doses  he  should  take.  Yet  it  would  not  be  half  as  danger- 
ous for  men  of  all  descriptions  to  deal  out  a.nd  administer 
these  substances  to  themselves  and  others,  for  there  would 
be  none  of  that  bewitching  temptation  to  excess,  in  the  case 
of  calomel  and  arsenic,  which  attends  ardent  spirits.  But 
if  by  carelessly  distributing  calomel  or  arsenic  in  society, 
you  had  destroyed  only  one  life,  your  conscience  would  be 
exceedingly  burdened  with  the  guilt.  And  who  is  to  bear 
the  guilt  of  destroying  the  thirty  or  forty  thousand  who  are 
cut  off  annually  in  this  country  by  intemperance  ? Sup- 
pose the  distilleries  were  all  to  stop,  how  many  would  then 
die  from  hard  drinking  ? 

But  if  alcohol  is  poisonous  in  a degree,  yet  it  is  often 
necessary,  you  say.  Physicians  say  not,  except  in  a very 
few  cases  as  a medicine  ; and  even  in  these  cases  it  is  doubt- 
ful whether  they  have  not  other  remedies  as  good,  or  bet- 
ter. ‘ Spirits  are  necessary,  you  say,  to  enable  a man  to  en- 
dure great  extremes  of  heat,  cold,  fatigue,  and  in  exposure 
to  wet,  and  attendance  upon  the  sick.  If  this  be  correct, 
farmers  will  sometimes  need  them.  But  many  of  the  most 
hard-working  and  thorough  farmers  in  the  land  have,  with- 
in a few  years  past,  tried  the  experiment  of  laboring  without 
spirits ; and  their  unanimous  testimony  is,  that  they  are 
stronger,  healthier,  and  better  able  to  bear  all  extremes  and 
severe  fatigue  without  them.  Have  you  ever  tried  the 
same  experiment  ? Be  persuaded  to  make  the  trial,  at  least 
for  one  year,  before  you  reject  so  much  substantial  testi- 
mony. 

If  spirits  are  necessary  for  any  class,  we  should  suppose 
it  would  be-theWest  Indian  slave.  But  “on  three  con- 
tiguous estates,”  says  Dr.  Abbot,  “ of  more  than  four  hun- 
dred slaves,  has  been  made,  with  fine  success,  the  experi- 
ment of  a strict  exclusion  of  ardent  spirits  at  all  seasons  of 
the  year.  The  success  has  very  far  exceeded  the  proprie- 
6* 


G 


ARGUxMENT  AGAINST  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


tor’s  most  sanguine  hopes.  Peace,  and  quietness,  and  con- 
tentment, reign  among  the  negroes ; creoles  are  reared  in 
much  greater  numbers  than  formerly ; the  estates  are  in 
the  neatest  and  highest  state  of  cultivation ; and  order  and 
disciphne  are  maintained  with  very  little  correction,  and  the 
mildest  means.” 

Sailors  are  another  class  who  must  sometimes  need 
spirits,  if  they  are  needed  in  case  of  great  exposure  to  cold 
and  wet.  But  several  crews  have  attempted  to  winter  in 
high  northern  latitudes,  and  those  furnished  with  spirits 
have  nearly  all  perished,  while  those  not  furnished  with 
them  have  nearly  all  survived.  When  exposed  to  cold  and 
wet,  and  partially  immersed  in  the  sea  for  hours,  those  who 
have  not  used  spirits  have  commonly  outlived  those  who 
drank  them. 

Soldiers  are  exposed  to  even  more  and  severer  extremes 
and  vicissitudes  than  sailors.  But  Dr.  Jackson,  a most  dis- 
tinguished physician  in  the  British  anny,  asserts  that  spirits 
are  decidedly  injurious  to  soldiers  on  duty,  rendering  them 
less  able  to  endure  labor  and  hardship.  And  a general 
officer  in  the  same  army  thus  testifies  : “But,  above  all,  let 
eveiy  one  Avho  values  his  health,  avoid  drinking  spirits  when 
heated ; that  is  adding  fuel  to  the  fire,  and  is  apt  to  pro- 
duce the  most  dangerous  inflammatory  complaints.”  “ Xot 
a more  dangerous  error  exists,  than  the  notion  that  the 
habitual  use  of  spirituous  liquors  prevents  the  effects  of 
cold.  On  the  contrar)^,  the  truth  is,  that  those  who  drink 
most  frequently  of  them  are  soonest  affected  by  severe 
weather.  The  daily  use  of  these  hquors  tends  greatly  to 
emaciate  and  Avaste  the  strength  of  the  body,”  etc. 

The  Roman  soldiers  marched  with  a weight  of  armor 
upon  them  which  a modern  soldier  can  hardly  stand  under ; 
and  they  conquered  the  Avorld.  Yet  they  drank  nothing 
stronger  than  vinegar  and  Avater. 

“ I haA^e  worn  out  two  armies  in  two  wars,”  says  the 
Dr.  Jackson  mentioned  above,  “ by  the  aids  of  temperance 


ARGUMENT  AGAINST  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


7 


and  hard  work,  and  probably  could  wear  out  another  before 
my  period  of  old  age  arrives.  I eat  no  animal  food,  drink 
no  wine  or  malt  liquor,  or  spirits  of  any  kind ; I wear  no 
flannel,  and  neither  regard  wind  nor  rain,  heat  nor  cold, 
when  business  is  in  the  way.” 

Those  men  in  Europe  who  are  trained  for  boxing- 
matches  would  require  spirits  if  they  were  necessary  for 
giving  bodily  strength  and  health,  since  the  object  of  this 
training  is  to  produce  the  most  perfect  health,  and  the 
greatest  possible  strength.  But  ardent  spirits  are  not  used 
by  them  at  all ; and  even  wine  is  scarcely  allowed. 

In  protracted  watching  by  the  bed  of  sickness,  food  and 
intervals  of  rest  are  the  only  real  securities  against  disease 
and  weakness.  Spirits  peculiarly  expose  a man  to  receive 
the  disease,  if  it  be  contagious,  and  if  not,  they  wear  out 
the  strength  sooner  than  it  would  otherwise  fail. 

The  most  exposed  and  trying  situations  in  life,  then, 
need  not  the  aid  of  ardent  spirits ; nay,  they  are  in  such 
cases  decidedly  injurious.  They  are  not,  therefore,  neces- 
sary, but  injurious  for  men  in  all  other  situations.  The 
distiller  must,  therefore,  give  up  the  necessity  of  using 
them  in  the  community  as  a reason  for  continuing  their  man- 
ufacture. 

But  spirits,  it  may  be  said,  do  certainly  inspire  a man 
with  much  additional  strength.  Yes;  and  physicians  tell 
us  how.  It  is  by  exciting  the  nervous  system,  and  thus 
calling  into  more  vigorous  action  the  strength  that  God  has 
given  the  constitution  to  enable  it  to  resist  heat,  cold,  and 
disease.  If  this  strength  do  not  previously  exist  in  the  sys- 
tem, spirits  can  never  bestow  it ; for  they  do  not  afford  the 
least  nourishment,  as  food  does.  They  merely  call  into 
action  the  stock  of  strength  which  food  has  already  implant- 
ed in  the  body.  Hence  the  debility  and  weakness  which 
always  succeed  their  use  when  the  excitement  has  passed 
by.  Hence,  too,  it  follows,  that  spirits  can  never  give  any 
additional  permanent  strength  to  the  body. 


8 


ARGUMENT  AGAINST  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


But  tliis  is  not  all ; for  pliysicians  infer  from  this  state- 
ment, that  the  use  of  spirits,  even  in  moderate  quantities, 
tends  prematurely  to  exhaust  and  wear  out  the  system.  It 
urges  on  the  powers  of  life  faster  than  health  requires,  and 
thus  wears  them  out  sooner,  by  a useless  waste  of  strength 
and  spirits.  True,  a moderate  drinker  may  not  notice  any 
striking  bad  effects  upon  his  health,  from  this  cause,  for 
many  years ; nay,  the  excitement  it  produces  may  remove, 
for  the  time  being,  many  uncomfortable  feelings  which  he 
experiences,  and  which  are  the  early  warnings  that  nature 
gives  him  that  she  is  oppressed,  for  the  secret  poison  is  at 
work  within ; and  if  such  a man  is  attacked  by  a fever,  or 
other  acute  disease,  physicians  know  that  he  is  by  no  means 
as  likely  to  recover  as  the  water-drinker,  because  the  spir- 
its have  partially  exhausted  the  secret  strength  of  his  con- 
stitution, all  of  which  is  now  wanted  to  resist  the  disease. 
Let  every  man  who  indulges  in  the  use  of  spirits  ponder 
well  the  declaration  of  a committee  of  one  of  the  most  en- 
lightened medical  societies  in  our  laud  : “ Beyond  compari- 
son greater  is  the  risk  of  life,  undergone  in  nearly  all  dis- 
eases, of  whatever  description,  when  they  occui-  in  those 
mifortunate  men  tvho  have  been  previously  disordered  bt' 
these  poisons.”  Such  men,  too,  it  may  be  added,  are  much 
more  liable  to  the  attacks  of  disease  than  those  who  totally 
abstain  from  alcohol.  In  both  these  ways,  therefore,  the 
use  of  .spirits,  even  in  the  greatest  moderation,  tends  to 
shorten  life. 

Distillers  of  ardent  spirits,  I entreat  you,  think  seriously 
of  these  things,  as  you  tend  the  fires  under  your  boilers. 
Farmers,  as  you  drive  your  load  of  cider  or  rye  to  the  dis- 
tillery, meditate  upon  them,  I beseech  you.  You  have 
here  the  opinions  and  advice  of  the  most  able  and  impartial 
physicians  in  this  countiy  and  in  Europe.  True,  you  may 
find  here  and  there  one,  of  little  or  no  reputation  and  learn- 
ing, who,  either  because  he  thinks  it  for  his  interest,  or  is 
attached  to  ardent  spirits  himself,  will  oppose  such  views 


ARGUMENT  AGAINST  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


9 


of  the  subject.  But  no  physician  of  distinction  and  good 
moral  character  would  dare,  at  this  day,  to  come  out  pub- 
licly in  opposition  to  the  principles  above  advanced,  sanc- 
tioned as  they  are  by  the  united  testimony  of  science  and 
experience.  0,  shut  not  your  ears  against  this  powerful 
voice. 

In  the  third  place,  I ivould  expostulate  with  these 
men  as  a friend  to  my  country.  Can  it  be  that  they  are 
acquainted  with  the  extent  of  the  mischiefs  which  our 
country  already  suffers  from  intemperance?  Do  they 
know  that  fifty-six  millions  of  gallons  of  ardent  spirits 
are  annually  consumed  in  the  United  States,  or  more 
than  four  and  an  half  gallons  to  each  inhabitant ; and  that 
about  forty-four  millions  of  this  quantity  are  prepared  in 
the  distilleries  of  our  own  country  ; that  ten  millions  of 
gallons  are  distilled  from  molasses,  and  more  than  nine 
million  bushels  of  rye  are  used  for  this  purpose  ? Do 
they  know  that  these  forty-four  millions  of  gallons,  as  re- 
tailed, must  cost  the  community  not  less  than  $22,000,000  ; 
that  they  render  from  two  hundred  to  three  hundred  thou- 
sand of  our  citizens  intemperate ; that  in  consequence  of 
this  intemperance  the  country  sustains  an  annual  loss,  in 
the  pi'oductive  labor  of  these  drunkards,  of  not  far  from 
$30,000,000 ; and  a loss  of  more  than  twenty-fiv^e  thou- 
sand lives,  from  her  middle-aged  citizens,  who  are  thus  cut 
off  prematurely  ? That  two-thirds  of  the  pauperism  in  the 
country,  costing  from  $6,000,000  to  $8,000,000,  and  two- 
thirds  of  the  crime  among  us,  perpetrated  by  an  army  of 
eighty  or  ninety  thousand  wretches,  result  from  the  same 
cause  ; and  that  from  forty  to  fifty  thousand  of  the  cases 
of  imprisonment  for  debt,  annually,  are  imputed  to  the 
same  cause  ? That  the  pecuniary  losses  proceeding  from 
the  carelessness  and  rashness  of  intemperate  sailors,  serv- 
ants, and  agents,  are  immense ; and  that  the  degradation  of 
mind,  the  bodily  and  mental  sufferings  of  drunkards  and 
their  families,  and  the  corruption  of  morals  and  manners,  are 


10 


ARGUMENT  AGALNST  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


altogether  beyond  the  reach  of  calculation  to  estimate,  and 
of  words  to  express  ?* 

Can  it  be  that  these  men  have  ever  soberly  looked  for- 
ward to  see  what  must  be  the  ultimate  eflFects,  upon  our  free 
and  beloved  country,  of  this  hydra-headed  evil,  unless  it  be 
arrested  ? Can  they  be  aware  that,  judging  by  the  past 
proportion  of  deaths  from  intemperance  in  the  most  regular 
and  moral  parts  of  the  land,  one  third  of  the  six  milhon 
adults  now  living  will  die  from  the  same  cause  ? Do  they 
know  how  the  intemperate  entail  hereditary  diseases  and  a 
thirst  for  ardent  spirits  upon  their  descendants,  and  how 
rapidly,  therefore,  the  bodily  vigor  of  our  citizens  is  giving 
w'ay  before  their  deadly  influence  ? And  can  they  doubt 
that  vigor  of  mind  will  decay  in  the  same  proportion  ? Cor- 
ruption of  manners  and  morals  too,  how  rapidly  it  will  spread 
under  the  operation  of  this  poison ! Nor  can  religious  prin- 
ciple stand  long  before  the  overwhelming  inundation ; and 
just  in  the  degree  in  which  alcoholic  liquors  are  used,  will 
the  Sabbath,  and  the  institutions  of  religion,  and  the  Bible 
be  neglected  and  trodden  under  foot.  And  when  the  mo- 
ralit}',  and  religion,  and  the  conscience  of  the  majority  of 
our  nation  are  gone,  what  but  a miracle  can  save  our  liber- 
ties from  ruin?  Corrupt  the  majority,  and  what  security 
is  there  in  popular  elections?  Coraupt  the  majority,  and 
you  have  collected  together  the  explosive  materials  that 
need  only  the  touch  of  some  demagogue’s  torch  to  scatter 
the  fair  temple  of  our  independence  upon  the  winds  of 
heaven. 

But  admitting  that  this  picture  is  not  overdrawn,  yet  the 
distiller  and  the  furnisher  of  materials  may  perhaps  say, 
that  all  this  does  not  particularly  concern  them.  They  are 

* In  order  to  obtain  the  result  in  this  paragraph,  the  well- 
established  estimates  that  have  often  been  made,  concerning  the 
cost  and  evils  of  ardent  spirits  in  our  country,  have  been  reduced 
about  one  fourth  or  fifth  part,  to  make  allowance  for  the  amount 
imported  from  abroad. 


ARGUMENT  AGAINST  ARDENT  STIRITS. 


11 


not  intemperate,  they  force  no  man  to  drink,  or  even  to  buy 
their  spirits  : nay,  they  generally  refuse  to  sell  to  the  intem- 
perate. The  intemperate  are  the  persons  to  whom  these 
expostulations  should  be  addressed.  As  for  the  distiller 
and  the  farmer,  who  manufacture  the  poison,  they  are  fol- 
lowing a lawful  calling,  and  have  a right  to  the  honest  pro- 
ceeds of  their  business. 

The  principle,  then,  which  I understand  you  to  advocate, 
is  this ; that  provided  your  employment  be  not  contrary  to 
the  laws  of  the  state,  you  are  under  no  obligation  to  inquire 
particularly  as  to  its  influence  upon  the  public  happiness 
after  the  products  of  your  labor  get  out  of  your  own  hands. 
If  this  be  a correct  principle  for  your  guidance,  it  is  cer- 
tainly a correct  one  for  others.  Let  us  apply  it  to  the 
intemperate  man. 

I expostulate  with  him  on  the  destructive  influence  of 
his  habits  upon  his  country.  “But  have  I not  a right,” 
says  he,  “ to  use  my  own  property  in  such  a way  as  I 
choose,  provided  I do  not  violate  the  laws  of  the  land  ? 
If  I may  not  employ  a portion  of  my  money  in  purchasing 
spirits,  neither  have  you  a right  to  lay  out  yours  for  a car- 
riage, or  for  painting  your  house,  or  for  any  thing  else  which 
some  of  your  neighbors  may  regard  as  unnecessaiy.  I buy 
no  more  spirits  than  my  health  and  comfort  require ; and  I 
have  as  good  a right  to  judge  of  the  quantity,  as  you  have 
in  respect  to  the  needless  articles  of  dress  and  furniture 
which  you  procure.” 

I urge  the  man  who  keeps  a licensed  gambling-house  to 
abandon  a pursuit  that  is  ruining  his  country.  “ But  I am 
not  violating  the  laws,”  he  replies,  “nor  compelling  any 
man  to  gamble  and  drink  to  excess  in  my  house.  The  whole 
responsibility,  therefore,  rests  upon  those  who  do  it.  Ex- 
postulate with  them.  I have  a right  to  my  earnings.” 

You  see  where  this  principle  leads.  Is  it  one  that  a true 
patriot  ought  to  adopt  ? No : he  alone  is  a true  patriot  who 
is  ready  to  abandon  every  pursuit  that  is  injuring  his  coun- 


12  ARGUMENT  AGAINST  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 

try,  however  profitable  it  may  be  to  himself,  and  however 
tolerated  by  the  civil  law.  Nor  I would  not  attempt  to 
extenuate  the  guilt  of  the  intemperate  man,  nor  of  the  mer- 
chant who  sells  him  spirits ; hut  I do  say,  that  if  those  who 
distil,  and  those  who  furnish  the  materials,  were  to  aban- 
don the  business  altogether,  it  would  almost  put  an  end  to 
intemperance  in  the  land.  For  only  a small  proportion  of 
the  spirits  used  is  imported ; and  its  price  must  always  con- 
tinue so  high  that  but  few  could  afford  to  be  drunkards 
were  the  domestic  manufacture  to  cease.  You  have  it  in 
your  power,  then,  to  put  a stop  to  this  most  dreadful  na- 
tional evil,  and  thus  to  save  our  liberties  and  all  that  is  dear 
to  us  from  ruin.  Your  fathers  poured  out  their  blood  like 
water  to  pui'chase  our  independence,  and  to  build  up  a 
bulwark  around  our  rights.  But  the  ten  thousand  distille- 
ries which  you  ply  are  so  many  fiery  batteries,  pouring  forth 
their  forty-four  million  discharges  every  year,  to  level  that 
bulwark  in  the  dust.  All  Europe  combined  against  us  in 
war  could  not  do  us  half  as  much  injuiy  as  your  distilleries 
are  doing  every  year.  Oh,  abandon  them — tear  them  down 
— melt  your  boilers  in  the  furnace — give  your  grain  and 
molasses  to  the  poor,  or  to  the  fowls  of  heaven — make  fuel 
of  your  fruit-trees,  rather  than  destroy  your  country. 

Some  may  say,  that  if  they  cease  to  manufactui'e  spirits, 
others  will  take  up  the  business  and  carry  it  on  as  exten- 
sively as  they  do.  And  since,  therefore,  the  country  vrill 
gain  nothing  by  their  discontinuance  of  distillation,  thev  may 
as  well  have  the  profit  of  it  as  others.  But  what  course  of 
■wickedness  will  not  such  reasoning  justify  ? A highway- 
man robs  you,  or  an  assassin  invades  your  dwelling  at  mid- 
night and  slaughters  your  wife  and  children.  Now,  would 
you  think  them  justified,  should  they  plead  that  they  knew 
of  others  about  to  commit  the  same  outrages,  and  therefore 
they  thought  their  commission  of  these  deeds  was  not  wrong, 
since  they  needed  the  avails  of  the  robbeiy  and  murder  as 
much  as  any  body  ? A man  could  pursue  the  slave-trade 


ARGUMENT  AGAINST  ARDENT  SPIRITS.  13 

year  after  year  on  this  principle,  with  no  uphuaidings  of 
cofiscience,  if  he  only  suspected  that  the  business  would  be 
carried  on  were  he  to  stop.  And  a traitor  might  sell  his 
country  for  gold,  could  he  only  ascertain  that  some  one  else 
was  about  to  do  it,  and  yet  be  exonerated  from  blame,  if 
this  principle  be  proper  to  act  upon.  Oh,  how  can  any 
decent  man  plead  a moment  for  a principle  that  leads  to 
such  monstrous  results  ! 

Some  will  say,  however,  that  they  sell  the  spirits  which 
they  manufacture  only  to  those  whom  they  know  to  be  tem- 
perate, and  therefore  they  are  not  accessory  to  the  intem- 
perance in  the  land ; for  they  are  not  accountable  for  the 
sins  of  those  who  sell  spirits  to  improper  persons. 

You  supply  them  only  to  the  temperate  ! The  greater 
the  blame  and  the  guilt ; for  you  are  thus  training  up  a new 
set  of  drunkards  to  take  the  place  of  those  whom  death  will 
soon  remove  out  of  the  way.  Were  you  to  sell  only  to  the 
intemperate,  you  would  do  comparatively  little  injury  to  the 
community.  For  you  would  only  hasten  those  out  of  the 
way  who  are  a nuisance,  and  prevent  the  education  of  others 
to  fill  their  places.  But  let  not  any  man  think  that  no 
blame  attaches  to  himself  because  the  poison  goes  into  other 
hands  before  it  is  administered.  A man  is  to  blame  for  any 
evil  to  his  fellow-men  which  he  could  prevent.  Now,  by 
stopping  all  the  distilleries  in  the  land,  you  could  prevent 
men  from  becoming  drunkards.  The  very  head  and  front 
of  the  offending,  therefore,  lies  with  you.  It  is  as  idle  for 
you  to  attempt  to  cast  all  the  guilt  upon  others,  in  this  way, 
as  it  was  for  Pilate,  when  he  endeavored  to  fix  the  blood  of 
Christ  upon  the  people  by  washing  his  hands  before  them 
and  declaring  himself  innocent,  and  then  going  back  to  his 
judgment-seat  and  passing  sentence  of  death  upon  him. 
Good  man  ! He  did  not  touch  a hair  of  the  Saviour’s  head. 
It  was  the  cruel  soldiers  who  executed  his  orders,  that, 
according  to  this  plea,  were  alone  guilty  ! 

Some  distillers  will  probably  say  that  they  cannot  sup- 
VOL.  VII. 


] 4 ARGUMENT  AGAINST  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 

port  themselves  and  families  if  they  abandon  this  business ; 
and  some  farmers  will  say,  if  we  cannot  sell  our  cider  and 
rye  to  the  distillers,  the  products  of  our  orchards  must  all 
be  lost,  and  rye  is  the  only  article  which  we  can  raise  upon 
our  farms  with  any  profit.  And  if  I were  not  to  purchase 
these  articles,  says  the  distiller,  their  price  must  he  so  low 
that  no  farmer  could  afford  to  raise  them.  Thus  to  reduce 
a large  class  of  the  yeomanry  of  our  country — its  very  sin- 
ews— to  poverty,  would  be  a greater  evil  than  even  the 
intemperance  that  is  so  common. 

Is  it  indeed  true,  that  in  this  free  and  happy  country  an 
industrious,  temperate,  and  economical  man,  cannot  find  any 
employment  by  which  he  can  support  himself  and  family 
in  a comfortable  manner  without  manufacturing  poison  and 
selling  it  to  his  countrymen  ? In  other  words,  cannot  he 
live  without  destroying  them  ? Is  land  so  scarce,  or  so 
eaten  up  with  tithes  and  taxes,  that  he'cannot  thence  derive 
subsistence  unless  he  converts  its  products  into  money  at 
the  expense  of  others’  comfort,  reputation,  and  life  ? Is 
every  honest  calling  so  crowded,  or  so  unproductive,,  that 
every  avenue  is  closed?  Have  the  men  who  make  this 
plea  tried,  even  for  a single  year,  to  live  without  the  manu- 
facture of  spirits  ? It  may  be,  indeed,  that  for  a time  they 
will  find  other  pursuits  less  productive  than  this.  And  is 
not  this,  after  all,  the  true  reason  why  they  shrink  from  the 
sacrifice  ? But  if  superior  profits  be  a sufiScient  reason  for 
continuing  distillation,  it  is  a reason  that  will  justify  the 
robber,  the  thief,  and  every  other  depredator  upon  the 
rights  of  others. 

But  how  does  it  appear  that  the  stoppage  of  all  the 
distilleries  in  the  land  will  reduce  the  price  of  cider  and 
rye  ? Their  operation  has  produced  a great  demand  for 
these  articles,  and  that  demand  has  thrown  into  the  market 
an  immense  supply  : the  consequence  is,  that  the  prices  are 
reduced  as  low  as  the  articles  can  be  afforded,  at  a very 
moderate  profit,  and  the  great  complaint  now  among  fai-ni- 


ARGUMENT  AGAINST  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


15 


ers  is,  that  they  are  so  low.  Let  the  distilleries  cease  to 
exist,  and  the  special  demand  for  these  articles  will  cease ; 
and  consequently  the  market  will  not  he  glutted  with  them, 
because  no  extra  efforts  will  be  made  to  raise  them  : the 
result  will  probably  be,  that  in  a very  short  time  their 
price  will  be  very  nearly  or  quite  as  high  as  it  now  is. 

But  even  if  we  suppose  the  worst,  that  the  distiller  and 
some  farmers  should  be  reduced  to  absolute  beggary  by  the 
cessation  of  this  manufacture ; no  reasonable,  or  patriotic, 
or  Christian  man  can  for  a moment  regard  this  as  a reason 
why  he  should  continue  in  any  business  that  is  productive 
of  immense  mischief  to  his  country.  Is  it  not  better  that 
he  and  his  family  should  come  to  want,  than  that  hundreds 
of  thousands  should  be  ruined,  soul  and  body,  for  time  and 
eternity  ? If  he  has  a' right  to  derive  his  subsistence  from 
the  ruin  of  others,  then  others,  as  the  thief,  the  swindler, 
and  the  robber,  have  a right  to  obtain  their  subsistence  from 
his  ruin. 

In  the  fourth  place,  I appeal  to  these  men  as  a neigh- 
bor  and  a parent,  and  in  behalf  of  the  drunkard’’ s wife  and 
children.  When  Providence  cast  our  lot  in  the  same  neigh- 
borhood, I considered,  and  doubtless  you  thought  the  same, 
that  a regard  to  our  mutual  welfare  bound  us  to  do  every 
thing  in  our  power  to  make  the  community  in  which  we 
lived  intelligent,  virtuous,  and  happy  ; and  to  avoid  every 
thing  that  would  mar  its  peace,  degrade  its  character,  or 
stain  its  purity.  My  complaint  is,  that  by  the  manufacture 
of  ardent  spirits  you  have  violated  these  obligations.  The 
facilities  for  obtaining  spirits,  and  the  temptations  to  their 
use  and  abuse,  have  been  thus  so  multiplied,  and  brought 
so  near,  that  very  many  who  were  once  kind  neighbors  and 
valuable  members  of  society  are  ruined,  or  in  different 
stages  of  the  path  to  ruin.  One  has  got  as  far  as  an  occa- 
sional visit  to  the  grog-shop  and  the  bar-room  ; another  is 
rarely  seen  there  ; but  the  wretched  condition  of  his  house, 
barn,  and  farm,  his  impatience  of  confinement  at  home,  and 


16  ARGUMENT  AGAINST  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 

his  many  foolish  bargains,  tell  me,  in  language  not  to  be 
mistaken,  that  the  worm  which  is  preying  upon  the  root  of 
his  prosperity  is  the  worm  of  the  still.  The  frequent  -Nisits 
of  the  sheriff  to  the  house  of  another  neighbor,  whose  fam- 
ily is  healthy  and  industrious ; his  bitter  complaints  of  the 
hardness  of  the  times  ; his  constant  efforts  to  borrow  money 
to  prevent  executions  from  being  levied  ; the  mortgaging  of 
his  farm  to  the  bank  ; his  pimpled  face,  and  bloated  body, 
and  dry  hacking  cough,  are  painful  testimonies  of  his  fa- 
miliarity with  the  products  of  the  distillery.  It  is  distress  - 
ing  to  look  around  upon  our  once  happy  neighborhood — 
did  you  ever  do  it  ? — and  to  see  what  havoc  your  manufac- 
tory of  spirits  has  made  upon  the  peace,  property,  reputa- 
tion, intelligence,  morality,  and  good  order  of  the  community. 
No  wasting  sickness,  no  foreign  or  domestic  war,  no  prema- 
ture frost ; no  drought,  blasting,  or  mildew ; nor  any  other 
visitation  of  God  ; no,  not  all  of  them  combined  have  been 
the  tenth  part  as  fatal  to  our  prosperity  and  happiness,  as 
this  one  self-inflicted  curse.  And  this  curse  we  should 
never  have  felt,  had  not  some  of  you  put  into  operation 
your  distilleries,  and  others  fed  them  with  the  products  of 
your  farms : I mean,  such  would  have  been  the  happy 
effect,  had  the  manufacture  of  spirits  ceased  in  oui-  land 
before  these  evils  had  followed  : and  I am  now  supposing 
that  some  one  in  every  town  and  neighborhood  throughout 
the  land,  where  there  is  a distillery,  is  addressing  the  same 
lano'uao-e  to  those  who  conduct  it  as  I am  addressing  to 
you.  We  make  a united  and  earnest  appeal  to  you,  in  Aiew 
of  the  ruin  that  rises  around  us,  that  you  would  stop  the 
work  of  destruction  and  strengthen  the  things  that  remain, 
Avhich  are  ready  to  die.  You  stand  at  the  fountain-head  of 
that  fiery  stream  which  is  spreading  volcanic  desolation 
over  the  land.  Oh,  shut  up  the  sluices  before  eveiy  ver- 
dant spot  is  buried  beneath  the  inundation. 

But  to  come  again  into  our  own  neighborhood : I have 
a family  of  beloved  children  growing  up  in  the  vicinity  of 


ARGUMENT  AGAIxNST  ARDENT  SPIRITS.  17 

your  distillery ; and  when  I recollect  that  every  fortieth 
individual  among  us  is  a drunkard,  and  that  about  every  third 
person  above  the  age  of  twenty  dies  prematurely  through 
intemperance,  I cannot  but  feel  a deep  anxiety  lest  my  boys 
should  be  found  at  lensfth  amon^  the  number.  True,  one 
of  the  earliest  lessons  I teach  them  is  total  abstinence, 
and  I try  to  excite  in  their  minds  a disgust  towards  every 
species  of  alcoholic  mixture.  But  they  go  to  one  of  my 
neighbors  and  hear  him  telling  of  the  whiskey  and  cider- 
brandy  that  have  been  produced  upon  his  farm,  and  they 
see  him  mixing  and  circulating  the  bowl  among  his  laborers, 
his  visitors,  and  even  his  own  children ; and  it  is  offered 
also  to  mine,  accompanied  with  some  jeer  against  cold 
water  societies.  They  see  the  huge  accumulations  of  cider 
and  rye  at  the  distillery,  and  mark  the  glee  of  the  men  who 
conduct  its  operations,  and  of  those  who  come  to  fill  their 
barrel  or  keg  with  spirits.  They  go  also  to  the  store  in  the 
vicinity,  and  see  one  after  another  filling  their  jugs  with  the 
same  article.  Noav,  these  neighbors  who  thus  distil,  and 
vend,  and  drink  whiskey  and  brandy,  my  children  are  taught 
to  respect ; and  how  is  it  possible  that  they  should  not  feel 
that  their  father  is  too. rigid  in  his  requirements,  and  hence 
be  tempted  to  taste ; and  tasting,  to  love  ; and  loving,  to  be 
destroyed  by  the  poison  ? Oh,  is  there  no  guilt  in  thus 
spreading  a snare  for  my  childi-en  ? Should  they  fall,  will 
none  of  their  blood  be  upon  your  heads  ? Shall  not  the 
entreaties  of  a parent  be  felt  by  those  who  are  themselves 
parents,  and  whose  days  may  yet  be  rendered  intolerable 
by  the  cruelty  of  drunken  children  ? 

I would  invite  the  manufacturer  of  spirits,  and  the  farm- 
er who  supplies  the  materials,  to  go  around  with  me  among 
the  people  in  the  vicinity  of  the  distillery,  that  they  may 
have  some  nearer  views  of  the  miseries  produced  by  their 
employment.  Let  us  stop  for  a moment  at  this  tavern. 

Myself.  You  seem,  landlord,  to  be  quite  full  df  busi- 
ness to-day.  What  is  the  occasion  ? 

VOL.  vrr. 


18 


ARGUMENT  AGAINST  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


Landlord.  Neighbors  X and  Y have  their  case  tried 
here,  to-day,  before  Esquire  Z,  and  you  know  that  these 
matters  cannot  go  on  well  with  dry  throats. 

Myself.  What  is  the  point  in  dispute  between  your 
neighbors  ? 

Landlord.  Something  about  swapping  a horse,  I be- 
lieve ; but  it  is  my  opinion  that  both  of  them  hardly  knew 
what  they  were  about,  when  they  made  the  exchange.  It 
was  last  town-meeting  day,  and  I recollect  that  both  of 
them  called  quite  frequently  at  my  bar  that  day.  They 
are  none  of  your  cold  water  folks,  I assure  you. 

Myself.  Are  these  court  days  generally  profitable  to 
you,  landlord  ? 

Landlord.  Better,  even,  than  a town  meeting  ; for 
those  who  come  on  such  occasions  have  no  qualms  of  con- 
science about  drinking,  if  they  have  occasion,  I assure  you. 
But  on  town-meeting  days,  some  of  the  pale-faced  temper- 
ance men  are  always  about,  to  frighten  away  honest  people. 

Myself.  Do  not  these  court  occasions  often  lay  the 
foundation  for  other  courts  ? 

Landlord.  Oh,  very  frequently  : but  so  much  the 
better,  you  know,  for  my  business ; and  so  I must  not 
complain. 

Let  us  next  call  at  Mr.  A’s,  w'ho  has  so  fine  a farm  and 
orchard,  and  every  means,  one  would  think,  of  independ- 
ence and  happiness.  But  hark  ; there  is  a family  dialogue 
going  on  between  farmer  A,  his  wife,  and  son. 

Son.  What ; boozy  so  early,  mother  ? and  father  too, 
and  quarrelling,  as  usual,  I perceive.  0, 1 wish  our  orchard 
Avere  all  burnt  doAvn,  and  the  distillery  too,  rather  than 
live  in  such  a bedlam. 

Mother.  But  do  you  not  like  a little  yourself,  son, 
when  eleven  o’clock  comes  ? 

Father.  Aye,  and  at  four,  and  some  bitters  in  the 
morning.  We  are  old,  you  must  remember,  son,  and  re- 
quire more  to  warm  us  and  support  nature  than  you  do. 


ARGUMENT  AGAINST  ARDENT  SPIRITS.  19 

Son.  If  you  would  drink  only  moderately,  as  I do,  I 
would  not  complain.  For  I am  not  one  of  your  cold  water 
scarecrows,  I assure  you.  But  to  have  you  drink  half  the 
time,  is  what  vexes  me. 

What  a fine  picture  is  here,  my  neighbors,  for  the  men 
to  look  at  who  expect  to  reform  the  world  by  moderate 
drinking,  witliout  adopting  the  principle  of  total  abstinence. 

But  look  at  the  sheriff  yonder,  pointing  about  neighbor 
B’s  house,  from  which  he  seems  to  be  excluded. 

Sheriff.  You  are  too  late,  gentlemen  ; all  the  prop- 
erty is  attached  for  twice  its  value.  Rum,  bad  bargains, 
and  negligence,  have  done  the  business  with  poor  B.  But 
I pity  his  wife  and  children  most,  for  they  have  struggled 
hard  to  prevent  it. 

Distiller.  Is  every  thing  gone  ? The  fellow  owed  me 
two  hundred  dollars. 

Myself.  For  whiskey,  I suppose. 

Distiller.  He  was  formerly  a partner  in  my  still,  you 
recollect. 

Yonder  comes  from  the  store  the  mechanic,  neighbor 
D.  Well,  neighbor  D,  how  do  the  times  go  with  you  now  ? 

D.  Was  there  ever  such  a scarcity  of  money  ? When 
the  rich  are  failing  all  around,  how  can  a poor  mechanic 
stand  it  ? 

Myself.  What  have  you,  friend  D,  bound  up  so  care- 
fully in  your  handkerchief  ? 

D.  Aye,  you  belong  to  the  cold  water  society,  I be- 
lieve. But  I do  know  that  a little  now  and  then  does  me 
good. 

Myself.  I should  suppose  that,  shut  up  as  you  are  in 
your  shop  most  of  the  time,  you  could  not  be  much  exposed 
to  heat  or  cold,  or  great  fatigue,  and  therefore  wonld  hardly 
need  spirits. 

D.  Well,  but  I have  a weak  and  cold  stomach,  and  often 
feel  so  faint  and  sick  that  I must  either  take  an  emetic  or  a 
glass  of  spirits.  But  the  latter  cures  all  my  bad  feelings. 


20  ARGUMENT  AGAINST  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 

Myself.  Ah,  friend  D,  I fear  the  times  ■will  prove  too 
hard  for  you.  But  why  do  you  try  to  conceal  your  jug  when 
you  go  to  the  store  for  whiskey  ? 

D.  Why — why — it  is  more  convenient  to  carry  it  tied 
up  in  this  way. 

Let  us  stop  next  at  this  skeleton  of  a house,  which  you 
know  used  to  look  so  tidy  before  its  owner  became  intem- 
perate. Oh,  was  misery  ever  more  perfectly  personified 
than  in  his  wife  and  children,  whom  you  see  through  the 
doors  and  window-frames  ! And  thei’e  hes  the  wretch  him- 
self, dead-drunk. 

Myself.  Pray,  madam,  do  these  children  attend  school  ? 

Wife.  Ah,  sir,  I am  ashamed  to  say  it,  they  have  not 
decent  clothes.  But  it  was  not  always  as  you  see  it  to-day. 
When  we  were  first  married  our  prospects  Avere  good ; and 
by  industry  and  economy  our  httle  farm  supported  us,  and 
we  made  some  headway.  But  (turning  towards  the  farmer) 
yet  I would  not  hurt  any  one’s  feelings. 

Farmer.  Tell  your  story,  madam. 

Wife.  Well,  sir,  you  recollect  that  five  years  ago  your 
orchard  produced  abundantly,  and  you  proposed  to  my 
husband  to  assist  you  in  making  the  cidei*,  and  getting  it  to 
the  distillery,  and  to  take  his  pay  in  brandy.  He  did  so, 
and  soon  a baiTel  of  the  poison,  which  he  could  not  sell, 
was  deposited  in  oiu’  cellar.  Oh,  what  a winter  followed  ! 
I have  kno'rni  no  peace  or  comfort  since,  nor  shall  I,  till 
I find  them  in  the  grave.  Were  it  not  for  these  poor 
naked  children,  I could  wish  to  rest  there  soon.  But  0, 
what  will  become  of  them?  Oh,  sir,  can  you  think  it 
strange  if  all  these  things  should  come  into  my  mind  ever)' 
tune  you  and  I sit  down  tosrether  at  the  same  communion- 
table ? 

We  must  not  retvum  home  without  calling  at  the  next 
miserable  hovel,  where  the  widow  of  a drunkard,  with  haK 
a dozen  ragged,  squalid  children,  is  dragg-ing  out  a miserable 
existence.  Hark,  she  is  reading  the  Bible.  Did  you  hear 


ARGUMENT  AGAINST  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


21 


that  stifled  groan,  as  she  read  in  that  holy  book,  Be  not 
deceived : neither  fornicators,  nor  idolaters,  nor  drunkards, 
shall  inherit  the  kingdom  of  God. 

Myself.  I believe  I have  not  seen  you,  madam,  since 
the  death  of  your  husband.  I hope  you  find  support. 

Widow.  Oh,  sir,  resignation  is  easy  if  we  feel  a confi- 
dence, or  even  a feeble  hope,  that  our  friends  who  are  taken 
away  will  escape  the  agonies  of  a second  death.  But  how 
can  we  hope  against  the  express  declarations  of  the  word 
of  God  ? 

Distiller.  And  yet,  madam,  your  husband  had  many 
excellent  qualities. 

Widow.  And  he  would  still  have  lived  to  bless  me 
and  the  world  by  their  exhibition,  had  it  not  been  for  your 
distillery. 

Distiller.  I have  no  idea  of  sitting  in  judgment  upon 
our  departed  friends,  and  sending  them  to  hell  because  they 
had  a few  failings. 

Widow.  Ah,  su-,  if  ray  husband  has  gone  there,  it  was 
your  distillery  that  sent  him.  Before  that  was  built  no  man 
was  more  kind,  temperate,  and  happy.  But  you  persuaded 
him  to  labor  there,  and  paid  him  in  whiskey,  and  it  ruined 
him,  and  ruined  us  all.  Look  at  me — look  at  these  chil- 
dren, without  food,  without  raiment,  without  fire,  without 
friends,  except  their  Friend  in  heaven.  I do  not  ask  you 
to  bestow  upon  us  any  articles  for  the  supply  of  our  tem- 
poral necessities ; but  look  at  us,  and  be  entreated  to  tear 
down  your  distillery,  so  that  you  may  not  multiply  upon 
you  the  execrations  of  the  widow  and  the  orphan,  ivrung 
from  them  by  the  extremity  of  their  sufferings. 

Gentlemen,  let  me  exhort  3'ou  to  take  such  a tour  of 
observation  as  this  once  a month.  Oh,  I entreat  every  one 
in  the  land,  who  has  any  concern  in  the  manufacture  of 
ardent  spirits,  to  do  the  same  ; and  ere  long,  I am  persuaded, 
you  would  either  abandon  eveiy  claim  to  humanity,  or 
abandon  for  ever  your  pernicious  employment. 

Temji.  Vol-  / 


22 


ARGUMENT  AGAINST  ARDENT  SPIRTfS. 


In  the  fifth  place,  I advise  and  forewarn  these  men  as 
their  personal  friend.  If  you  distil  ardent  spirits,  or  furnish 
the  materials,  you  must  use  them  yourselves  and  allow  of 
their  use  in  your  families  ; otherwise  your  inconsistency,  not 
to  say  dishonesty,  would  subject  you  to  universal  contempt. 
Now,  to  have  your  children  familiar  with  the  sling,  the 
toddy,  and  the  flip,  as  they  grow  up  ! Is  here  no  danger 
that  the  temptation  will  prove  too  strong  for  them  ? Can 
a man  talce  fire  in  his  hosom,  and  his  clothes  not  he  burned  = 
Can  one  go  upon  hot  coals,  and  his  feet  not  he  burned  ? And 
what  compensation  for  the  intemperance  of  a wife,  or  a 
child,  would  be  the  highest  profits  of  an  orchard,  a field  of 
rye,  or  a distillery  ? Oh,  to  be  a drunkard  is  to  destroy  the 
soul  as  well  as  the  body  : and  what  shall  a man  give  in 
exchange  for  his  soul?  And  are  you  yourselves  in  no  dan- 
ger of  intemperance,  plied  as  you  are  by  so  many  allure- 
ments ? Look  around  you  and  see  how  many  strong  men, 
how  many  of  the  wise,  the  moral,  the  amiable,  and  the 
apparently  pious,  have  fallen  before  the  fascinations  of  this 
prince  of  serpents.  And  are  you  safe  who  stand  even  within 
the  reach  of  his  forky  tongue,  and  laj^  the  bait  for  his  vic- 
tims, and  lure  them  into  his  jaws  by  tasting  of  it  yourselves  ? 
Oh,  the  history  of  distillers  and  temperate  drinkers,  in  their 
last  days,  furnishes  an  awful  warning  for  you. 

But  there  is  another  danger  before  you,  of  which,  as  a 
faithful  friend,  I wish  to  forewarn  you.  I see  a dark  storm 
gathering  over  your  heads.  You  cannot  be  ignorant  of  the 
mighty  movement  that  is  making  in  our  land  on  the  subject 
of  temperance.  You  must  have  felt  the  heavy  concussion, 
and  heard  the  rollinsr  thunder.  The  religious,  the  moral, 
the  patriotic,  the  learned,  and  the  wise,  as  intemperance  has 
been  developing  its  huge  and  hateful  features  more  and 
more,  have  been  aroused  to  eflbrt ; the}'  have  closed  together 
in  a firm  phalanx ; and  as  they  move  on  Avith  the  standard 
of  total  abstinence  Avaving  before  them,  the  great,  and  the 
o-ood,  and  the  valiant  of  eA'crv  name,  are  swellino-  their 


ARGUMENT  AGAINST  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


23 


ranks.  The  cry  is  ivaxing  louder  and  louder,  “ Where  are 
the  strong  holds  of  the  monster ; point  out  to  us  the  foun- 
tains that  supply  his  insatiable  thirst,  and  who  it  is  that 
feeds  them ; and  who  it  is  that  opens  the  enoi'mous  flood- 
gates ? and  thither  we  will  march,  and  against  such  men 
will  we  point  our  heaviest  artillery.”  And  to  this  cry  there 
is  an  answer  more  and  more  distinctly  breaking  out : “ To 
the  distilleries — to  the  distilleries.”  My  friends,  wait  not 
till  this  storm  of  public  indignation  bursts  upon  you,  nor 
fancy  that  you  can  face  it.  Oh,  no ; it  will  be  a steady, 
fiery  blast,  that  will  bear  you  down  ; and  you  will  find  that 
none  but  the  dregs  of  the  community  will  be  left  with  you 
to  sustain  you.  You  will  be  left  ■with  the  drunkards,  to  be 
distinguished  from  them  only  as  their  abettors  and  support- 
ers ; and  from  jmu  will  every  virtuous  and  patriotic  man 
turn  away  in  disgust,  as  enemies  to  himself,  his  children, 
and  his  country.  Think  not  that  all  this  is  imagination : 
look  up,  and  you  will  see  the  cloud  blackening,  and  the 
lightning  beginning  to  play,  and  hear  the  thunder  roaring. 
But  it  is  not  yet  too  late  to  escape  from  the  fury  of  the 
storm. 

Finally,  I would  entreat  these  men  as  a Christian. 
Some  of  them  profess  a personal  and  experimental  know- 
ledge of  vital  Christianity,  and  are  members  of  the  visible 
church.  What,  can  it  be  that  a real  Christian  should,  at 
this  day,  be  concerned  in  the  manufacture  of  ardent  spirits 
for  general  use  ? When  I think  of  the  light  that  now  illu- 
minates  every  man’s  path  on  this  subject  so  clearly,  and 
think  how  the  horrors  of  intemperance  must  flash  in  his  face 
at  every  step,  I confess  I feel  disposed  indignantly  to  reply. 
No;  this  man  cannot  be  a Christian.  But  then  I recollect 
David,  the  adulterer ; Peter,  the  denier  of  his  master,  pro- 
fanely cursing  and  swearing;  and  John  Newton,  a genuine 
convert  to  Christianity,  yet  for  a long  time  violating  every 
dictate  of  conscience  and  of  right;  and  I check  my  hasty 
judgment,  and  leave  the  secret  characte-  of  the  manufao- 


24 


ARGUMENT  AGAINST  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


turer  of  ardent  spirits  to  a higher  and  more  impartial  tribu- 
nal. But  if  such  a man  be  really  a Christian,  that  is,  if  he 
do  really  love  God  supremely  and  his  neighbor  as  himself, 
in  what  a state  of  awful  alienation  and  stupidity  must  he  be 
living  ! Remaining  in  such  a state,  that  is,  while  persever- 
ing in  so  unchristian  an  employment,  can  he  have  any  evi- 
dence himself,  or  afford  any  evidence  to  others,  of  possessing 
a Christian  character  ? 

I would  not  apply  these  remarks  in  their  unqualified 
severity  to  every  professor  of  religion  who  supplies  the  dis- 
tillery with  materials,  or  who  vends  or  uses  wkie  or  ardent 
spirits  ; for  we  shall  find  some  of  this  description  who  really 
suppose  that,  instead  of  being  condemned  for  such  conduct 
in  the  Bible,  they  are  rather  supported  by  some  parts  of  it : 
they  not  only  find  Christ  converting  vmter  into  wine  at  a 
marriage,  and  Paul  directing  Timothy  to  use  a little  wine 
for  his  health,  but  that,  in  one  case,  the  Jews  had  liberty  to 
convert  a certain  tithe  into  money,  and  bring  it  to  Jerusa- 
lem and  bestow  it  for  what  their  soul  lusted  after,  for  oxen, 
or  for  sheep,  or  for  wine,  or  strong  drink,  and  they  were  to 
eat  there  before  the  Lord  their  God,  and  rejoice,  they  and  their 
household.  Deut.  14  ; 26.  But  before  any  one  settles 
down  into  a conclusion  that  this  passage  warrants  the  use 
of  wine  and  ardent  spirits,  in  our  age  and  country,  let  him 
consider  that  there  rnay  have  been,  as  there  doubtless  were, 
peculiar  reasons,  under  the  Levitical  dispensation,  for  per- 
mitting the  Jews  to  partake  of  what  their  soul  desired  be- 
fore the  Lord,  which  would  not  apply  to  mankind  generally ; 
as  was  the  case  in  respect  to  several  other  things.  But  not 
to  urge  this  point,  I would  say,  further,  that  the  fact  that 
Judea  was  a wine  country,  that  is,  a country  ivhere  the  grape 
for  the  manufacture  of  wine  was  easily  and  abundantly 
raised,  puts  a different  aspect  upon  this  permission.  In  our 
country,  the  apple  takes  the  place  of  the  grape,  and  our 
cider  is  nearer  equivalent  to  the  wine  of  Judea;  because 
there  tlie  apple  does  not  flourish,  and  here  the  grape  cannot 


ARGUMENT  AGAINST  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


25 


be  extensively  cultivated.  To  use  wine  in  wine  countries, 
therefore,  is  essentially  the  same  thing  as  to  use  cider  in  cider 
countries;  and  it  does  not  appear  that  the  one,  in  such 
cases,  is  much  more  productive  of  intemperance  than  the 
other.  The  fact  is,  the  wines  used  in  countries  where  they 
are  manufactured,  contain  but  little  more  then  half  as  much 
alcohol  as  most  of  the  wine  sold  in  this  country,  where,  as 
a very  respectable  authority  states,  “for  every  gallon  of 
pure  wine  which  is  sold,  there  is  perhaps  a pipe,  or  fifty 
times  the  quantity  of  that,  which  is  adulterated,  and  in  va- 
rious manners  sophisticated — the  whole,  without  exception, 
the  source  of  a thousand  disorders,  and  in  many  instances 
an  active  poison,  imperfectly  disguised.” 

But  after  all,  I am  not  obliged,  in  this  place,  to  prove 
that  God  has  forbidden  the  use  of  wine,  though  led  into  this 
digression  from  the  desire  to  correct  a general  misapprehen- 
sion of  the  Scriptures  on  this  subject ; for  the  inquiry  now 
relates  to  ardent  spirits.  And  what  shall  we  say  Concern- 
ing the  permission,  above  pointed  out,  for  the  Jews  to  use 
strong  drink  ? I say,  it  was  merely  a permission  to  use  wine ; 
for  the  strong  drink  several  times  mentioned  in  the  Bible 
was,  in  fact,  nothing  more  than  a 'particular  kind  V wine, 
made  of  dates  and  various  sorts  of  seeds  and  roots,  and 
called  strong  drink,  merely  to  distinguish  it  from  the  wine 
made  from  grapes.  Nor  is  there  any  evidence  that  it  was 
in  fact  any  stronger,  in  its  intoxicating  qualities,  than  com- 
mon wine.  The  truth  is,  ardent  spirits  were  not  known  until 
'many  centuries  after  Christ : not  until  the  art  of  distillation 
was  discovered,  which  was  not  certainly  earlier  than  the 
dark  ages.  JSf.ot  a word,  therefore,  is  said  in  the  Bible  con- 
cerning distilled  spirits.  All  its  powerful  descriptions  of 
drunkenness,  and  awful  denunciations  against  it,  were  found- 
ed upon  the  abuse  men  made  of  wfine.  How  much  louder 
its  notes  of  remonstrance  and  terror  would  have  risen,  had 
distillation  thus  early  taught  men  how  to  concentrate  the 
poison,  may  be  imagined  by  the  reader. 

VOL.  VII. 


26 


ARGUMENT  AGAINST  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


After  these  statements,  I trust  none  of  those  whom  I 
address  will  any  longer  resort  to  the  Bible  for  proofs  of  a 
divine  permission  to  manufacture  or  use  ardent  spirits.  But 
do  tlie  principles  of  the  Bible  condemn  such  use  and  manu- 
facture ? 

What  do  you  think  of  the  golden  rule  of  doing  unto 
others  as  we  would  they  should  do  unto  us  ? Should  you 
suppose  your  neighbors  were  conducting  towards  you  ac- 
cording to  this  rule,  were  they  unnecessarily  to  pursue  such 
a business,  or  to  set  such  an  example  as  would  inevitably 
lead  any  of  your  children  or  friends  into  confirmed  drunk- 
enness ? If  not,  then  how  can  you,  consistently  with  this 
rule,  distil,  use,  or  furnish  materials  for  the  manufacture  of 
ardent  spirits,  when  you  thereby,  directly  or  indirectly, 
render  intemperate  from  two  hundred  thousand  to  three 
hundred  thousand  of  your  fellow-citizens,  and  every  year 
also  raise  up  new  recruits  enough  to  supply  the  dreadful 
ravages  which  death  makes  in  this  army  ? This  you  are 
certainly  doing ; for  were  your  distilleries  to  stop,  and  you 
to  stop  drinking,  few  would  become  drunkards,  from  want 
of  the  means. 

How  would  you  like  to  have  your  neighbors  one  after 
another  break  down  your  fences,  and  turn  their  cattle  into 
your  corn-fields,  cut  down  your  fruit  and  ornamental  trees, 
set  your  house  or  barn  on  fire,  and  threaten  you  with  pov- 
erty and  slavery  ? If  you  would  not  have  your  neighbor 
do  thus  to  you,  provided  he  had  the  power,  then  how  can 
you,  by  preparing  the  food  for  intemperance,  subject  the 
property,  the  peace,  the  morality,  the  religion,  and  the  lib- 
erties of  your  country  to  those  dangers  and  fearful  depre- 
dations which  you  are  now  inflicting  upon  her? 

How  would  you  like  to  have  your  neighbors,  directly  or 
indirectly,  but  unnecessarily,  cause  the  premature  death  of 
every  fortieth  of  your  children  and  friends,  and  of  one  in 
three  of  those  above  the  age  of  twenty  ? I know^  you 
wruld  not  that  they  slioidd  do  thus  to  you,  and  yet  your 


AUGU5IENT  AGAINST  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


27 


manufacture  of  spirits  causes  the  premature  death  of  five 
Hundred  of  your  fellow-citizens  every  week  ; in  other  words, 
about  that  number  die  every  week  throiigdi  the  intemperance 
produced  by  your  distilleries. 

Again,  I ask  the  men  whom  I am  addressing,  how  they 
reconcile  their  manufacture  and  sale  of  spirits  with  another 
command  of  the  Bible?  Woe  unto  him  that  giveth  his 
neighbor  drink,  that  piittest  thy  bottle  to  him,  and  malcest 
him  drunken  also,  that  thou  mayest  look  on  their  nakedness , 
True,  this  applies  most  emphatically  to  the  retailer  of  spirits  : 
but  what  could  the  retailer  do  if  there  were  no  distillery  ; 
and  what  could  the  distiller  do  if  the  farmer  withheld  the 
materials  ? All  these  men  are  engaged,  directly  or  indirect- 
ly, in  giving  their  neighbors  drink  ; and  though  it  may  pass 
through  many  hands  before  it  reaches  all  their  mouths,  yet 
where  must  the  burden  of  the  guilt  rest,  if  not  upon  those 
who  stand  at  the  head  of  the  series,  and  first  convert  the 
articles  which  God  has  given  to  nourish  and  sustain  life  into 
active  pois'on  for  its  destruction;  and  then,  for  the  sake  of 
a paltry  pecuniary  profit,  send  it  round  amongst  their  neigh- 
bors, accompanied  with  all  the  plagues  that  issued  from  the 
fabled  Pandora’s  box  ? 

Finally,  let  me  ask  these  men  how  the  business  of  pre- 
paring ardent  spirits  for  the  community  appears  to  them 
Avhen  they  think  most  seriously  of  another  world  ? In  the 
hours  of  sober  reflection,  on  the  Sabbath,  during  seasons  of 
devotion,  when  sickness  overtakes  you,  and  death  seems 
near,  or  you  stand  by  the  dying-bed  of  some  one  of  your 
family  or  neighbors ; at  such  seasons  can  you  look  back 
upon  this  pursuit  with  pleasure?  If  conscience  then  tells 
you  that  this  business  ought  to  be  given  up.  Oh  remember, 
that  conscience  is  an  honest  and  faithful  friend  at  such  times, 
and  tlmt,  as  this  pursuit  then  appears  to  you,  so  will  it  ap- 
pear when  j'ou  come  actually  to  die.  Test  this  business  1 
beseech  you,  by  bringing  it  in  imagination  to  the  scrutiny 
of  your  dying  hour.  Whether  it  be  lawful  oi  unlawful, 


28 


ARGUMENT  AGAINST  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


certain  it  is  that  it  sends  five  hundred  drunkards  into  eter- 
nity every  week ; and  you  have  the  express  testimony  of 
the  Bible,  that  no  drunkard  shall  inherit  the  kingdom  of 
God.  As  the  Bible  is  true,  then,  are  not  the  manufacturei-s 
of  ardent  spirits  in  our  land  the  means  of  sending  five  hun- 
dred souls  to  hell  every  week  ? Tell  me,  my  friends,  how 
will  this  awful  truth  appear  to  you  on  the  bed  of  death  ? 
And  how  does  it  appear  when  you  look  forward  to  the  final 
judgment,  and  realize  that  you  must  meet  there  fifty  or  an 
hundred,  or  five  hundred  times  five  hundred  drunkards, 
made  such  through  your  instrumentality,  for  one,  or  two,  or 
ten  years,  and  must  there  justify  yourselves  for  this  instru- 
mentality, or  go  away  with  them  into  perdition,  covered 
with  their  blood  and  followed  by  their  execrations  ? 

Oh,  my  friends,  these  are  realities ; and  they  are  near. 
Do  you  begin  to  doubt  whether  you  are  in  the  path  of  duty  ? 
Listen,  I beseech  you,  to  the  first  whispers  of  the  faithful 
monitor  in  jmur  bosom. 

By  the  reasonings  of  philosophy,  by  the  testimony  of 
physicians,  by  the  expostulations  of  your  bleeding  country, 
by  the  tears,  the  rags,  and  the  wretchedness  of  three  hun- 
dred thousand  drunkards,  with  their  wives  and  children ; 
by  the  warnings  of  personal  friendship,  and  by  the  sanctions 
of  the  divine  law,  the  solemnities  of  death  and  the  judg-ment, 
and  the  groans  of  ten  thousand  drunkards,  rising  from  the 
pit,  I entreat  you,  abandon  at  once  and  for  ever  this  most 
unrighteous  employment,  and  save  yourselves  from  the 
eternal  agonies  of  conscience,  the  execrations  of  millions, 
and  the  wrath  of  Omnipotence. 


ADDRESS 


THE  YOUNG  MEN  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES, 

ON 

TEMPEEAICE. 


BY  RT.  REV.  C.  P.  M’lLVAlNE,  D.  D. 


In  addressing  the  Young  Men  of  the  United  States  in 
regard  to  the  great  enterprise  of  promoting  the  universal 
prevalence  of  Temperance,  we  are  not  aware  that  any  time 
need  be  occupied  in  apology.  Our  motives  cannot  be  mis- 
taken. The  magnitude  of  the  cause,  and  the  importance 
of  that  cooperation  in  its  behalf  which  this  address  is 
designed  to  promote,  will  vindicate  the  propriety  of  its 
respectful  call  upon  the  attention  of  those  by  whom  it 
shall  ever  be  received. 

It  is  presumed  that  every  reader  is  already  aware  of 
the  extensive  and  energetic  movements  at  present  advanc- 
ing in  our  country  in  behalf  of  Temperance.  That  an  un- 
precedented interest  in  this  work  has  been  recently  excited, 
and  is  still  rapidly  strengthening  in  thousands  of  districts  ; 
that  talent,  wisdom,  experience,  learning,  and  influence  are 
now  enlisted  in  its  service,  Avith  a measure  of  zeal  and  har- 
mony far  surpassing  Avhat  Avas  ever  Avitnessed  before  in 
such  a cause ; that  great  things  have  already  been  accom- 

7* 


2 


ADDRESS  TO  THE  YOUNG  MEN  OF 


plished  ; that  much  greater  are  near  at  hand  ; and  that  the 
whole  victory  will  be  eventually  won,  if  the  temperate  por- 
tion of  society  are  not  wanting  to  their  solemn  duty,  must 
have  been  seen  already  by  those  living  along  the  main 
channels  of  public  thought  and  feeling.  Elevated,  as  we 
now  are,  upon  a high  tide  of  general  interest  and  zeal — a 
tide  which  may  either  go  on  increasing  its  flood  till  it  has 
washed  clean  the  very  mountain  tops,  and  drowned  intem- 
perance in  its  last  den ; or  else  subside,  and  leave  the  land 
infected  with  a plague,  the  more  malignant  and  incurable 
from  the  dead  i-emains  of  a partial  inundation — it  has  be- 
come a question  of  universal  application,  which  those  who 
are  now  at  the  outset  of  their  influence  in  society  should 
especially  consider ; “ What  can  we  do,  and  what  ought  we 
to  do  in  this  cause?”  For  the  settlement  of  this  question 
we  invite  you  to  a brief  view  of  the  whole  ground  on  which 
temperance  measures  are  now  proceeding. 

It  cannot  be  denied  that  our  country  is  most  horribly 
scourged  by  intemperance.  In  the  strong  language  of 
Scripture,  it  groaneth  and  travaileth  in  pain,  to  he  deliv- 
ered front  the  bondage  of  this  corruption.  Our  country  is 
free  ; with  a great  price  obtained  we  this  freedom.  We  feel 
as  if  all  the  force  of  Europe  could  not  get  it  from  our  em- 
brace. Our  shores  would  shake  into  the  depth  of  the  sea 
the  invader  who  should  presume  to  seek  it.  One  solitaiy 
citizen  led  away  into  captivity,  scourged,  chained  by  a 
foreign  enem}^  would  rouse  the  oldest  nerve  in  the  land  to 
indignant  complaint,  and  league  the  whole  nation  in  loud 
demand  for  redress.  And  yet  it  cannot  be  denied  that 
our  country  is  enslaved.  Yes,  we  are  groaning  under  a 
most  desolating  bondage.  The  land  is  trodden  down  under 
its  polluting  foot.  Our  families  are  continually  dishonored, 
ravaged,  and  bereaved  ; thousands  annually  slain,  and  hun- 
dreds of  thousands  carried  away  into  a loathsome  slavery, 


THE  UNITED  STATES,  ON  TEMPERANCE.  3 

to  be  ground  to  powder  under  its  burdens,  or  broken  upon 
the  wheel  of  its  tortures. 

What  are  the  statistics  of  this  traffic  ? Ask  the  records 
of  madhouses,  and  they  will  answer,  that  one-third  of  all 
their  wretched  inmates  were  sent  there  by  Intemperance. 
Ask  the  keepers  of  our  prisons,  and  they  Avill  testif}^  that, 
with  scarcely  an  exception,  their  horrible  population  is  from 
the  schools  of  Intemperance.  Ask  the  history  of  the 
200,000  paupers  now  burdening  the  hands  of  public  char- 
ity, and  you  will  find  that  two-thirds  of  them  have  been 
the  victims,  directly  or  indirectly,  of  Intemperance.  In- 
quire at  the  gates  of  death,  and  you  will  learn  that  no  less 
than  30,000  souls  are  annually  passed  for  the  judgment- 
bar  of  God,  driven  there  by  Intemperance.  How  many 
slaves  are  at  present  among  us?  We  ask  not  of  slaves  to 
man,  but  to  Intemperance,  in  comparison  with  whose  bond- 
age the  yoke  of  the  tyrant  is  freedom.  They  are  esti- 
mated at  480,000  ! And  what  does  the  nation  pay  for  the 
honor  and  happiness  of  this  whole  system  of  ruin  ? Five 
times  as  much,  every  year,  as  for  the  annual  support  of  its 
whole  system  of  government.  These  are  truths,  so  often 
published,  so  widely  sanctioned,  so  generally  received,  and 
so  little  doubted,  that  we  need  not  detail  the  particulars  by 
which  they  are  made  out.  What,  then,  is  the  whole 
amount  of  guilt  and  of  woe  which  they  exhibit  ? Ask 
Him  “ unto  whom  all  hearts  ai-e  open,  all  desires  known, 
and  from  whom  no  secrets  are  hid.”  Ask  Eternity  ! 

The  biographer  of  Napoleon,  speaking  of  the  loss  sus- 
tained by  England  on  the  field  of  Waterloo,  says,  “ Fifteen 
thousand  men  killed  and  wounded,  threw  half  Britain  into 
mourning.  It  required  all  the  glory  and  all  the  solid  ad- 
vantages of  that  day  to  reconcile  the  mind  to  the  high 
price  at  which  it  was  purchased.”  But  Avhat  mourning 
would  fill  all  Britain,  if  every  year  shordd  behold  another 


4 


ADDRESS  TO  THE  YOUXG  MEN  OF 


Waterloo?  But  what  does  every  year  repeat  in  our  peace- 
ful land  ? Ours  is  a carnage  not  exhibited  only  once  in  a 
single  field,  but  going  on  continually,  in  every  town  and 
hamlet.  Every  eye  sees  its  woes,  every  ear  catches  its 
gi'oans.  The  Avounded  are  too  numerous  to  count.  Who 
is  not  wounded  by  the  intemperance  of  this  nation  ? But 
of  the  dead  we  count,  year  by  year,  more  than  double  the 
number  that  filled  half  Britain  with  mourning.  Ah,  could 
Ave  behold  the  many  thousands  whom  our  destroyer  an- 
nually delivers  over  unto  death,  collected  together  upon 
one  field  of  slaughter,  for  one  funeral,  and  one  deep  and 
wide  burial-place ; could  we  behold  a full  assemblage  of 
all  the  parents,  widows,  children,  friends,  whose  hearts 
have  been  torn  by  their  death,  surrounding  that  awful 
grave,  and  loading  the  Avinds  with  tales  of  woe,  the  whole 
land  would  cry  out  at  the  spectacle.  It  would  require 
something  more  than  “ all  the  glory,'”  and  “ all  the  solid 
advantages  ” of  Intemperance,  “ to  reconcile  the  mmd  to  the 
high  price  at  which  they  were  purchased 

But  enough  is  known  of  the  intemperance  of  this  coun- 
try to  render  it  undeniable  by  the  most  ignorant  inhabitant, 
that  a horrible  scourge  is  indeed  upon  us. 

Another  assertion  is  equally  unquestionable.  The  time 
has  come  ichen  a great  effort  must  he  made  to  exterminate 
this  unequalled  destroyer.  It  was  high  time  this  was  done 
when  the  first  drunkard  entered  eternity  to  receive  the 
award  of  Him  who  has  declared  that  no  drunkard  shall 
enter  the  kingdom  of  God.  The  demand  for  this  effort 
has  been  groAving  in  the  peremptory  tone  of  its  call,  as 
“the  overflowing  scoui-ge”  has  passed  Avith  constantly  ex- 
tending sweep  through  the  land.  But  a strange  apathy 
has  prevailed  among  us.  As  if  the  whole  nation  had  been 
drinking  the  cup  of  delusion,  we  saw  the  enemy  coming  in 
like  a flood,  and  we  lifted  up  scarcely  a straw-against  him. 


THE  UNITED  STATES,  ON  TEMPERANCE.  5 

As  if  tlie  magicians  of  Egypt  had  prevailed  over  us  by 
their  enchantments,  ve  beheld  our  waters  of  refreshment 
turned  into  blood,  and  a destroying  sword  passing  through 
till  “there  was  a great  cry”  in  the  land,  for  there  was 
scarcely  “ a house  where  there  was  not  one  dead and 
still  our  hearts  were  hardened,  and  we  would  not  let  go 
the  great  sin  for  which  these  plagues  were  brought  upon 
us.  It  seems  as  if  some  foul  demon  had  taken  his  seat 
upon  the  breast  of  the  nation,  and  was  holding  us  down 
with  the  dead  weight  of  a horrid  nightmare,  while  he 
laughed  at  our  calamity  and  mocked  at  our  fear — when 
our  fear  came  as  desolation,  and  our  destruction  as  a 
whirlwind. 

Shall  this  state  continue  ? Is  not  the  desolation  ad- 
vancing ? Have  not  facilities  of  intemperance,  temptations 
to  intemperance,  examples  to  sanction  intemperance,  been 
fast  increasing  ever  since  this  plague  began?  Without 
some  effectual  effort,  is  it  not  certain  they  will  continue  to 
increase,  till  intemperate  men  and  their  abettors  will  form 
the  public  opinion  and  consequently  the  public  conscience 
and  the  public  law  of  this  land — till  intemperance  shall 
become,  like  leviathan  of  old,  “ king  over  all  the  children 
of  pride,”  whose  breath  kindleth  coals,  and  a “flame  goeth 
out  of  his  mouth?”  Then  what  will  effort  of  man  avail? 
“ Canst  thou  draw  out  leviathan  with  a heok  ? His  heart 
is  as  firm  as  a stone ; yea,  as  hard  as  a piece  of  the  nether 
millstone.  He  drinketh  up  a river,  and  hasteth  not.  When 
he  raiseth  up  himself,  the  mighty  are  afraid.” 

It  is  too  late  to  put  off  any  longer  the  effort  for  deliv- 
erance. It  is  granted  by  the  common  sense,  and  urged  by 
the  common  interest ; every  feeling  of  humanity  and  every 
consideration  of  religion  enforces  the  belief  that  the  time 
has  come  when  a great  onset  is  imperiously  demanded  to 
drive  out  intemperance  from  the  land. 


/ 

6 ADDRESS  TO  THE  YOUNG  MEN  OF 

This,  to  be  great,  must  he  universal.  The  TsTiole  coun- 
try is  enslaved ; and  the  whole  country  must  rise  up  at 
once,  like  an  armed  man,  and  determine  to  be  free.  Of 
what  lasting  avail  would  it  be  for  one  section  of  territory, 
here  and  there,  to  clear  itself,  Avhilethe  surrounding  regions 
should  remain  under  the  curse?  The  temperance  refonna- 
tion  has  no  quarantine  to  fence  out  the  infected.  Geo- 
graphical boundaries  are  no  barriers  against  contagion. 
Rivers  and  mountains  are  easily  crossed  by  corrupting 
example.  Ardent  spirits,  like  all  other  fluids,  perpetually 
seek  their  level.  In  vain  does  the  farmer  eradicate  from 
his  fields  the  last  vestige  of  tire  noisome  tliistle,  while  the 
neighboring  grounds  are  given  up  to  its  dominion,  and 
every  wind  scatters  the  seed  where  it  listeth.  The  effort 
against  intemperance,  to  be  effective,  must  he  universal. 

Here,  then,  are  three  important  points  which  we  may 
safely  assume  as  entirely  unquestionable : that  our  country 
is  horrihly  scourged  hy  intemperance  ; that  the  time  has  come 
when  a great  effort  is  demanded  for  the  expulsion-of  this  evil ; 
and  that  no  effort  can  he  effectual  without  being  universal. 
Hence  is  deduced,  undeniably,  the  conclusion  that  it  is  the 
duty,  and  the  solemn  duty  of  the  people,  in  every  part  of 
this  country,  to  rise  up  at  once,  and  act  vigorously  and 
unitedly  in  the  furtherance  of  whatever  measures  are  best 
calculated  to  promote  reformation. 

Here  the  question  occiu’s.  What  can  he  done  ? How  can 
this  woe  he  arrested?  The  answer  is  plain.  Nothing  can 
be  done,  but  in  one  of  the  three  following  ways.  You  must 
either  suffer  people  to  drink  immoderately ; or  you  must 
endeavor  to  promote  moderation  in  drinking ; or  you  must 
try  to  persuade  them  to  drink  none  at  all.  One  of  these 
plans  must  be  adopted.  Which  shall  we  choose?  The 
first  is  condemned  already. 


THE  UNITED  STATES,  ON  TEMPERANCE.  7 

What  say  we  to  the  second,  the  moderate  use  of  intoxi- 
cating drinks  ? It  has  unquestionably  the  sanction  of  high 
and  ancient  ancestry.  It  is  precisely  the  plan  on  which 
intemperance  has  been  wrestled  with  ever  since  it  was  first 
discovered  that  “ wine  is  a mocker,”  and  that  “ strong  drink 
is  raging.”  But  hence  comes  its  condemnation.  Its  long 
use  is  its  death- witness.  Were  it  new,  we  might  hope 
something  from  its  adoption.  But  it  is  old  enough  to  have 
been  tried  to  the  uttermost.  The  wisdom,  the  energy,  the 
benevolence  of  centuries  have  made  the  best  of  it.  The 
attempt  to  keep  down  intemperance  by  endeavoring  to  per- 
suade people  to  indulge  only  moderately  in  strong  drink, 
has  been  the  world’s  favorite  for  ages  ; while  every  age  has 
wondered  that  the  vice  increased  so  rapidly. 

At  last  we  have  been  awakened  to  a fair  estimate  of  the 
success  of  the  plan.  And  what  is  it  ? So  far  from  its  hav- 
ing shown  the  least  tendency  to  exterminate  the  evil,  it  is 
the  mother  of  all  its  abominations.  All  who  have  attained 
the  stature  of  full-grown  intemperance,  were  once  children 
in  this  nursery,  sucking  at  the  breasts  of  this  parent.  All 
the  “ men  of  strength  to  mingle  strong  drink,”  who  are  now 
full  graduates  in  the  vice,  and  “ masters  in  the  arts  ” of 
drunkenness,  began  their  education  and  served  their  ap- 
prenticeship under  the  discipline  of  moderate  drinking.  All 
that  have  learned  to  lie  down  in  the  streets,  and  carry  terror 
into  their  families,  and  whom  intemperance  has  conducted 
to  the  penitentiary  and  the  madhouse,  may  look  back  to 
this  as  the  beginning  of  their  course — the  author  of  their 
destiny.  No  man  ever  set  out  to  use  strong  drink  with  the 
expectation  of  becoming  eventually  a drunkard.  No  man 
ever  became  a drunkard  without  having  at  first  assured 
himself  that  he  could  keep  a safe  rein  upon  every  disposi- 
tion that  might  endanger  his  strict  sobriety.  “I  am  in  no 
danger  while  I only  talce  a little,”  is  the  first  principle  in 


8 


ADDRESS  TO  THE  YOUNG  MEN  OF 


the  doctrine  of  intemperance.  It  is  high  time  it  were  dis- 
carded. It  has  deluged  the  land  with  vice,  and  sunk  the 
population  into  debaserhent.  The  same  results  will  ensue 
again,  just  in  proportion  as  the  moderate  use  of  ardent 
spirits  continues  to  be  encouraged.  Let  the  multitude  con- 
tinue to  drink  a little,  and  still  our  hundreds  of  thousands 
will  annually  drink  to  death. 

It  is  settled,  therefore,  that  to  encourage  moderate 
drinking  is  not  the  plan  on  which  the  tempei'ance  reforma- 
tion can  be  successfully  prosecuted.  The  faithful  experi- 
ment of  generation  after  generation,  decides  that  it  must  be 
abandoned.  A cloud  of  witnesses,  illustrating  its  conse- 
quences in  all  the  tender  mercies  of  a drunkard’s  portion, 
demand  that  it  should  be  abandoned.  Its  full  time  is  come. 
Long  enough  have  we  refused  to  open  our  eyes  to  the 
evident  deceitfulness  of  its  pretensions.  At  last  the  coun- 
try is  awaking,  and  begins  to  realize  the  emptiness  of  this 
dream.  Let  it  go  as  a dream,  and  only  be  remembered 
that  Ave  may  Avonder  hoAV  it  deceived,  and  lament  how  it 
injured  us. 

But,  if  this  be  discarded,  what  plan  of  refonnation 
remains  ? If  nothing  is  to  be  expected  from  endeavoring 
to  promote  a moderate  use  of  ardent  spirits,  and  still  less 
from  an  immoderate  use,  AA'hat  can  be  done?  There  is  but 
one  possible  ansAver.  Persuade  people  to  use  none  at  all. 
Total  abstinence  is  the  only  plan  on  which  reformation  can 
be  hoped  for.  We  are  shut  up  to  this.  We  haAm  tried  the 
consequences  of  encouraging  people  to  A'enture  but  moder- 
ately into  the  atmosphere  of  infection ; and  we  are  noAV 
convinced  that  it  was  the  very  plan  to  feed  its  strength  and 
extend  its  ravages.  We  are  forced  to  the  conclusion,  that, 
to  arrest  the  pestilence,  Ave  must  starve  it.  All  the  healthy 
must  abstain  from  its  neighborhood.  All  those  who  are 
now  temperate  must  give  up  the  use  of  the  means  of  in- 


THE  UHn’ED  STATES,  ON  TEMPERANCE.  9 

temperance.  The  deliverance  of  this  land  from  its  pres- 
ent degradation,  and  from  the  increasing'  rvoes  attendant 
on  this  vice,  depends  altogether  npon  the  extent  to  which 
the  principle  of  total  abstinence  shall  be  adopted  by  our 
citizens. 

But  suppose  this  principle  universally  adopted,  would  it 
clear  the  country  of  intemperance  ? Evidently  it  is  the 
only,  but  is  it  the*  effectual  remedy  ? Most  certainly,  if  all 
temperate  persons  would  disuse  ardent  spirits,  they  could 
not  cease  to  be  temperate.  Many  a drunkard,  under  the 
powerful  check  of  their  omnipresent  reproof,  would  be  so- 
bered. His  companions  would  totter,  one  after  another,  to 
their  graves.  A few  years  would  see  them  buried,  and  the 
land  relinquished  to  the  temperate.  Then  what  would  be 
the  security  against  a new  inroad  of  the  exterminated  vice  ? 
Why,  public  opinion  would  stand  guard  at  every  avenue  by 
which  it  could  come  in. 

Consider  the  operation  of  this  influence.  Why  is  it  now 
so  easy  to  entice  a young  man  into  the  haunts  of  drunken- 
ness ? Because  public  opinion  favors  the  use  of  the  very 
means  of  his  ruin.  He  may  drink  habitually,  and  fasten 
upon  himself  the  appetite  of  drink,  till  he  becomes  enchained 
and  feels  himself  a slave ; brrt  if  he  has  never  fallen  into 
manifest  intoxication,  he  has  forfeited  no  character  in  public  • 
opinion.  All  this  is  a direct  result  of  the  fact,  that  those 
considered  as  temperate  people  set  the  example,  and  pat- 
ronize the  snare  of  moderate  drinking.  But  suppose  them 
to  take  the  ground  proposed,  and  bear  down  with  the  whole 
force  of  their  example  and  influence  on  the  side  of  entire 
abstinence,  would  they  not  create  an  immense  force  of  pub- 
lic opinion  against  the  least  use  of  ardent  spirits  ? How 
then  could  a temperate  man  ever  become  a drunkard  ? He 
has  not  yet  contracted  the  desire  for  ardent  spirits ; and 
how  will  he  contract  it  ? Will  he  risk  his  character ; fly  in 


10 


ADDRESS  TO  THE  YOUNG  MEN  OF 


tlie  face  of  public  feeling  and  opinion  ; despise  all  the  warn- 
ings in  the  history  of  intemperance,  to  get  at  the  use,  and 
put  himself  under  the  torture  of  that  for  which,  as  yet,  he 
has  no  disposition  ? Only  post  a wakeful  public  sentiment 
at  the  little  opening  of  moderate  drinking,  and  the  whole 
highway  to  the  drunkard’s  ruin  will  be  closed  up.  All  its 
present  travellers  will  soon  pass  away,  while  none  will  be 
entering  to  keep  up  the  character  of  the  load. 

Most  assuredly,  then,  the  reformation  of  the  land  is  in 
the  power  of  public  opinion.  It  is  equally  certain,  that  pub- 
lic opinion  will  accomplish  nothing  but  by  setting  its  influ- 
ence directly  in  opposition  to  ayiy  indulgence  in  strong  drink. 
And  it  is  just  as  plain,  that  in  order  to  accomplish  this, 
the  temperate  part  of  the  population  must  create  a power  of 
e.vample  by  setting  out  upon  the  firm  and  open  ground  of 
total  abstinence.  In  proportion,  then,  as  the  temperate 
throughout  the  countr}"  shall  come  up  to  this  ground,  will 
the  redemption  of  our  enslaved  republic  be  accomplished. 

Thus  have  we  arrived  at  the  last  refuge  of  this  cause. 
Abstain  entirely,  is  the  grand  principle  of  life,  to  be  writ- 
ten upon  the  sacred  standard  of  all  temperance  movements, 
and  under  which  the  contending  host  may  be  as  sure  of 
victory  as  if,  like  Constantine,  they  saw  inscribed  with  a 
sunbeam  upon  the  cloud.  In  hoc  signo  vinces*  But  such 
being  the  eminent  importance  of  total  abstinence,  it  deserves 
to  be  presented  in  detail.  "We  begin,  therefore,  with  the 
position,  that 

Entire  abstinence  from  ardent  spirits  is  essential  to  per- 
sonal security.  Such  is  the  insidious  operation  of  strong 
drink  upon  all  the  barriers  we  may  set  up  against  excess ; 
so  secretly  does  it  steal  upon  the  taste,  excite  the  appetite, 
disorganize  the  nervous  system,  and  undermine  the  deepest 
* Under  tliis  standard  you  shall  conquer. 


THE  UNITED  STATES,  ON  TEMPERANCE.  H 

resolutions  of  him  who  imagines  himself  in  perfect  security ; 
so  numerous  and  awful  have  been  its  victories  over  every 
barrier,  and  every  species  of  mental  and  bodily  constitution, 
that  we  may  lay  it  down  as  an  assertion,  which  none  who 
know  the  annals  of  intemperance  will  dispute,  that  no  indi- 
vidual who  permits  himself  to  use  ardent  spirits  moderately, 
has  any  valid  security  that  he  will  not  become  a victim  to 
its  power. 

We  know  the  remarks  ivhich  instantly  mount  to  the  lips 
of  many  at  the  sight  of  such  an  assertion : “ Surely  the 
little  we  take  can  never  hurt  us.  Look  around  and  see  how 
many  have  done  the  same,  and  continued  the  habit  to  the 
end  of  life,  without  having  ever  been  betrayed  into  drunken- 
ness.” We  do  look  around,  and  are  constrained  to  remark, 
how  manj’'  have  seemed  to  live  temperately  to  the  end,  who, 
if  the  reality  were  known,  would  be  quoted  as  warnings 
against  the  insidiousness  of  the  poison,  instead  of  examples 
of  the  security  with  which  it  may  be  used  in  moderation. 
Tliey  were  never  delirious  ; but  were  they  never  fevered  ? 
Fever  is  often  fatal,  without  delirium.  Ah,  did  every  dis- 
ease with  which  human  beino's  are  fevered,  and  swollen,  and 
slain,  receive  a candid  name ; were  every  gravestone  in- 
scribed with  a true  memorial,  as  well  of  the  life,  as  the 
death  of  him  at  whose  head  it  stands  ; could  every  consump- 
tion, and  dropsy,  and  liver-complaint,  disclose  its  secret 
history  ; did  every  shaking  nerve,  and  palsied  stomach,  and 
aching  temple,  and  burning  brain,  and  ruptured  blood-ves- 
sel, relate  how  it  began,  and  grew,  and  triumphed,  we 
should  hear,  indeed,  of  many  who  died  in  consumption,  or 
dropsy,  and  other  diseases,  without  any  impulse  towards 
the  grave  from  the  use  of  strong  drink  ; but  of  how  many, 
never  regarded  as  intemperate,  should  we  learn  that  the 
real,  though  slow  and  silent  cause  of  their  death  was  drink. 
They  lingered  long,  and  their  malady  was  called  a disease 


12 


ADDRESS  TO  THE  YOUNG  MEN  OF 


of  the  lungs ; or  they  fell  suddenly,  and  it  was  a case  of 
apoplexy  ; or  they  were  greatly  swollen,  and  it  was  consid- 
ered dropsy  ; they  lost  their  powers  of  digestion,  and  were 
said  to  be  troubled  with  dyspepsia;  every  vital  function 
refused  its  natural  action,  and  the  poor  victim  was  treated 
for  a liver- complaint.  But  why  ? what  produced  the  dis- 
ease ? Alcohol ! They  were  poisoned.  They  died  of  the 
intemperate  use  of  ardent  spirits,  however  moderately  they 
may  have  had  the  credit  of  indulging  in  them. 

But  again,  we  look  at  the  world,  and  while  we  cannot 
acknowledge  that  they  have  habitually  indulged  in  even  a 
moderate  use  of  ardent  spirits  without  receiving  some  inju- 
ry— for  alcohol  must  hurt  a healthy  man  in  some  way  or 
other — we  do  acknowledge  that  many  have  thus  indulged 
with  no  very  perceptible  injury.  They  have  continued 
sober.  But  so  it  must  be  acknowledged,  that  many  have 
breathed  the  air  and  mingled  with  the  victims  of  a pesti- 
lence, without  being  infected  ; or  stood  amidst  the  caniage 
of  battle,  without  receh-inar  a wound.  But  were  thev  in  no 
danger  ? Because  they  came  off  unhurt,  shall  we  be  willing 
to  rush  into  the  streets  of  an  infected  city,  or  join  the  con- 
flict of  charuinu  battalions  ? 

But  again,  we  look  at  the  world,  and  see  how  many  have 
been  slain,  while  many  have  lived ; how  many  who,  if  ex- 
alted station,  eminent  talents,  great  attainments,  excellent 
feelings,  and  heavy  responsibihties,  are  any  security,  might, 
with  more  than  usual  reason,  have  flattered  themselves  with 
the  assurance  of  safety : men  of  all  professions,  of  strong 
nerves,  and  numerous  resolutions  and  precautions,  at  last 
reduced  to  a level  with  the  brutes ; and  this  spectacle  forces 
the  conviction  that  entire  abstinence  is  the  only  secm'ity 
against  final  ruin.  Had  you  a tree  in  your  gardens,  the 
fruit  of  which  should  be  discovered  to  have  inflicted  disease 
as  often  as  the  prudent  use  of  ardent  spirits  has  resulted  in 


THE  UNITED  STATES,  ON  TEMPERANCE.  13 

the  sorrows  of  intemperance,  that  tree  would  be  rooted  up. 
Its  fruit  would  be  entitled  'poison.  The  neighborhood  would 
be  afraid  of  it.  Children  would  be  taught  to  beware  of  so 
much  as  venturing  to  try  how  it  tastes. 

Again  : The  total  disuse  of  ardent  spirits,  on  the  part  of 
parents,  is  the  only  plan  of  safety  in  hrinyiny  up  their  chil- 
dren. How  many  are  the  parents  whose  lives  are  cursed 
Avith  children  who,  were  it  not  that  “ no  drunkard  hath  any 
inheritance  in  the  kingdom  of  God,”  they  Avould  be  relieved 
to  hear  Avere  dead  ! But  hoAV  Avere  those  children  ruined  ? 
“Ah,  by  those  corruptiny  companions ; by  that  vile  dram- 
shop,” the  parents  Avould  ansAver.  But  Avhat  first  inclined 
their  Avay  to  that  house  of  seduction  ? By  AAdiat  avenue  did 
evil  associates  first  effect  a lodgment  in  those  children’s 
hearts  ? Hoav  many  parents  must  turn  and  look  at  home 
for  an  ansAver ! They  have  not  been  intemperate  ; but  AAdiile 
the  tastes  and  habits  of  their  children  were  forming,  they 
used  to  drink  moderately  of  ardent  spirits.  The  decanter 
containing  it  had  an  honorable  place  on  the  sideboard  and 
on  the  table.  It  Avas  treated  respectfully,  as  a fountain  of 
strength  to  the  feeble,  of  refreshment  to  the  weary ; and  as 
perfectly  safe  Avhen  used  in  moderation.  To  offer  it  to  a 
friend  Avas  a debt  of  hospitality.  Thus  the  whole  Aveight 
of  parental  example  AA-as  employed  in  impressing  those 
children  Avith  a favorable  idea  of  the  pleasure,  the  benefit, 
and  the  security,  not  to  speak  of  the  necessity,  of  the  use  of 
ardent  spirits.  Thus  the  parents  presented  the  decanter  of 
strong  drink  to  their  children,  Avith  a recommendation  as 
forcible  as  if  every  day  they  had  encircled  it  Avith  a chaplet 
of  roses,  and  pronounced  an  oration  in  its  pi'aise. 

And  Avhat  consequences  Avere  to  be  expected  ? Chil- 
dren Avho  revere  their  parents  Avill  honor  Avhat  their  parents 
delight  to  honor.  It  Avas  not  to  be  supposed  that  those 
children  would  do  else  than  imitate  the  high  example  before 


14 


ADDRESS  TO  THE  YOUNG  MEN  OF 


them.  Most  naturally  would  they  try  the  taste,  and  emu- 
late to  acquire  a fondness  for  strong  drink.  They  would 
think  it  sheer  folly  to  be  afraid  of  what  their  parents  used. 
In  a little  while  the  flavor  would  become  grateful.  They 
would  learn  to  think  of  it,  ask  for  it,  contrive  ways  of  ob- 
taining it,  and  be  very  accessible  to  the  snares  of  those  who 
used  it  to  excess.  Thus  easily  would  they  slide  into  the 
pit.  And  thus  the  history  of  the  decline,  and  fall,  and 
death  of  multitudes  must  commence,  not  at  the  dram-shop, 
but  at  the  tables  of  parents  ; not  with  describing  the  influ- 
ence of  seductive  companions,  but  with  a lamentation  over 
the  examples  of  inconsiderate  parents,  who  furnished  those 
companions  with  their  strongest  argument,  and  wreathed 
their  cup  of  death  with  a garland  of  honor. 

Such  consequences  must  be  looked  for  wherever  paren- 
tal example  is  expected  to  be  held  in  reverence  among  chil- 
dren. A father  may  venture  to  the  brink  of  a precipice, 
and  stand  without  giddiness  upon  the  margin  of  the  torrent 
that  rushes  by  and  plunges  into  a deep  abyss ; but  will  he 
trust  his  child  to  occupy  the  same  position  ? But  if  the 
child  see  him  there,  is  there  no  danger  that  when  the  par- 
ent’s eye  is  away,  he  too  will  venture,  and  go  and  play 
upon  the  frightful  verge,  and  be  amused  with  the  bubbles 
as  the)"  dance  along  the  side  of  the  cataract,  and  at  last  be- 
come giddy,  and  be  drawn  in  with  the  rush  of  the  tide  ? 

Entire  abstinence  from  the  drink  of  drunkards  is  the 
parents’  only  plan  in  training  up  their  children. 

Again : The  total  disuse  of  ardent  spirits  is  essential  to 
the  beneficial  influence  of  the  example  of  the  temperate  upon 
society  at  large. 

However  novel  the  assertion  to  some,  it  can  be  easily 
shown  that  the  example  of  all  who  use  ardent  spirits,  except 
as  they  use  prescribed  medicine,  is  in  the  scale  of  intemper- 
ance. As  far  as  its  influence  extends,  it  helps  directly  to 


THE  UNITED  STATES,  ON  TEMPERANCE.  15 

fill  up  the  ranks  of  the  intemperate,  and  annually  to  launch 
a multitude  of  impenitent  souls  into  a hopeless  eternity. 
Can  this  be  true?  Suppose  all  the  rising  generation,  in 
imitation  of  their  elders,  should  commence  the  moderate 
use  of  strong  drink.  They  are  thus  attracted  into  the  cur- 
rent of  the  stream  which  is  setting  silently,  smoothly,  power- 
fully, towards  the  roaring  whirlpool.  But  now  they  are 
urged  by  those  whose  example  they  have  thus  far  follov.-ed, 
to  go  no  farther.  “ Beware,”  they  cry,  “ the  tide  is  strong  ; 
do  like  us ; drop  the  anchor,  ply  the  oar.”  Ah,  but  now 
their  influence  fails.  It  was  strong  enough  to  persuade  the 
thoughtless  into  danger ; but  now  it  is  perfectly  impotent 
to  keep  them  from  ruin.  They  have  none  of  the  strength 
or  prudence  by  which  others  have  been  enabled  to  keep 
their  place.  They  have  no  anchor  to  drop,  nor  skill  at  the 
oar.  They  yield,  and  go  down,  and  perish.  But  where 
must  we  look  for  the  prime  cause  of  this  destruction?  To 
those  whose  example  enticed  them  into  the  way — the  exam- 
ple of  prudent  drinkers. 

Such,  unquestionabl}^  was  the  influence  by  which  a 
great  portion  of  those  now  intemperate  were  first  drawn 
into  the  snares  of  death.  It  is  not,  as  man}^  suppose,  the 
odious  example  of  those  alread}’’  under  the  dominion  of 
intemperate  habits,  by  which  others  ai'e  seduced  ; the  oper- 
ation of  such  disgusting  precedents  is  rather  on  the  side  of 
entire  abstinence  from  the  means  of  their  debasement.  But 
it  is  to  the  honor  given  the  degrading  cup,  by  those  who 
can  drink  without  what  is  considered  excess,  that  we  must 
ascribe,  in  a great  degree,  the  first  seduction  of  all  who 
receive  the  ultimate  wages  of  intemperance. 

Again : Entire  abstinence  from  strong  drink  should  be 
the  rule  of  all ; because,  to  one  in  health,  it  never  does  good  ; 
hut,  on  the  contrary,  it  alivays,  of  its  very  nature,  does  harm. 
We  know  the  general  idea,  that  hard  labor,  and  cold 


IG  ADDRESS  TO  THE  YOUNG  MEN  OF 

weather,  and  a hot  sun  demand  its  use ; that  a little  to 
stimulate  the  appetite,  and  a little  to  help  digestion,  and  a 
little  to  compose  us  to  sleep,  and  a little  to  refresh  us  when 
fatigued,  and  a little  to  enliven  us  when  depressed,  is  very 
useful,  if  not  necessary.  And  we  know  how  soon  so  many 
little  matters  make  a great  amount.  We  have  often  been 
called  to  “ behold  how  great  a matter  a little  fire  kindleth.” 
A more  rmfounded  idea  never  was  adopted,  than  that  a 
man  in  health  can  need  such  medicine.  Is  there  any  nour- 
ishment in  drinking  alcohol  ? About  as  much  as  in  eating 
fire. 

But  why  should  not  the  opinions  of  physicians  sufl&ce  on 
this  point  ? If  we  take  their  adnce  as  to  udiat  will  cure  us 
when  sick,  why  not  also  as  to  what  will  injure  us  when  well  ? 
The  first  medical  men  throughout  the  land  do  not  more 
perfectly  agree,  that  to  breathe  a foul  atmosphere  is  perni- 
cious, than  that  the  use  of  strong  drink,  in  any  quantity,  is 
hurtful.  Abstain  entirely,  is  their  loud  and  reiterated  ad- 
vice. Many  of  them  will  even  maintain  that  it  can  easily 
and  profitably  be  dispensed  with  in  medicine. 

But  how  speaks  e.vperience  on  this  head  ? Who  works 
the  longest  under  the  sun  of  August,  or  stands  the  firmest 
against  the  winter,  or  -abides  the  safest  amidst  abormding 
disease,  or  arrives  last  at  the  infirmities  of  old  age  ? The 
experiment  of  total  abstinence  has  been  fairly  tried  in  thou- 
sands of  cases,  b)’’  those  Avho  once  imagined  thev^  must  drink 
a little  every  day ; and  invariably  have  they  borne  a grate- 
ful testimony  to  its  happy  effects  upon  the  health  of  their 
bodies  and  the  peace  of  their  minds.  Fanns  are  tilled,  har- 
vests gathered,  ships  built,  companies  of  militia  parade, 
associations  of  firemen  labor,  fishermen  stand  their  exposure, 
the  student  trims  his  lamp,  the  hungry  eat  their  bread,  and 
the  weary  take  their  rest,  with  no  debt  of  thanks  to  the  aid 
of  the  distillery. 


THE  UNITED  STATES,  ON  TEMPERANCE. 


17 


We  say  no  moi'e  upon  the  plan  of  entire  abstinence. 
But  we  M'ill  mention  four  reasons  which  should  embolden 
any  friend  of  temperance  in  urging  it  upon  others. 

1.  It  is  extremely  simple.  All  can  comprehend,  all 
can  execute  it.  It  requires  no  labor  ; costs  no  study  ; con- 
sumes no  time. 

2.  It  contains  no  coercion.  Its  whole  force  is  that  of 
reason.  The  influence  of  laws  and  of  magistrates  it  does 
not  embrace.  No  man  can  complain  of  a trespass  upon 
his  liberty,  when  we  would  iiersuade  him  to  escape  the 
drunkard’s  slavery  by  not  tasting  the  drunkard’s  cup. 

3.  In  this  cure  there  is  no  pain.  It  is  recommended  to 
whom  ? the  temperate~~to  those  who,  having  formed  no 
strong  attachment  to  ardent  spirit,  can  feel  no  great  self- 
demal  in  renouncing  its  use. 

4.  In  this  remedy  there  is  no  expense.  To  those  who 
complain  of  other  works  of  usefulness  because  of  their  cost, 
this  is  without  blame.  To  drink  no  spirits,  will  cost  no 
money.  But  what  will  it  save  ? It  will  save  the  majority 
of  tbe  poorer  class  of  the  population,  in  most  of  our  towns, 
one  half  their  annual  rent.  It  will  empty  all  our  alms- 
houses and  hospitals  of  two  thirds  their  inhabitants,  and 
support  the  remainder.  Yes,  such  is  the  tax  which  the 
consumption  of  ardent  spirits  annually  levies  upon  this  na- 
tion, that  the  simple  disuse  of  strongvdrink,  throughout  the 
land,  would  save  in  one  year  the  value  of  at  least  live  times 
the  whole  national  revenue. 

It  is  too  late  to  say  that  a general  adoption  of  the  great 
principle  of  total  abstinence  is  too  much  to  be  hoped  for. 
A few  years  ago,  who  would  not  have  heen  considered  almost 
deranged  had  he  predicted  what  has  already  been  accom- 
plished in  this  cause  ? Great  things,  wonderful  things,  have 
already  been  effected.  The  enemies  of  this  reformation, 
whose  pecuniary  interests  set  them  in  opposition,  are  unable 

Temp.  Vol. 


18 


ADDRESS  TO  THE  YOUNG  MEN  OF 


to  deny  this  fact.  It  is  felt  from  the  distillerj'  to  the  dram- 
shop. It  is  seen  from  Maine  to  the  utmost  South  and  West. 
Every  traveller  perceives  it.  Every  vender  knows  it.  The 
■whole  country  'vvonders  at  the  progress  of  this  cause.  It 
is  rapidly  and  powerfully  advancing.  Om  thing,  and  only 
one,  can  prevent  its  entire  success.  The  frenzy  of  drunk- 
enness cannot  arrest  its  goinars.  The  hundreds  of  thousands 
in  the  armies  of  intemperance  cannot  resist  its  march.  But 
the  temperate  can.  If  backward  to  come  up  to  the  vital 
principle  of  this  work,  they  will  prevent  its  accomplishment. 
But  the  banner  of  triumph  will  -n-ave  in  peace  over  all  the 
land,  hailed  by  thousands  of  grateful  captives  from  the  gripe 
of  death,  in  spite  of  all  the  warring  ef  the  “ mighty  to  drink 
wine,”  if  those  who  abhor  intemperance,  and  think  they 
Avould  be  ■u'illing  to  make  a great  sacrifice  to  save  their 
children  or  friends  from  its  blasting  curse,  will  only  come 
up  to  the  little  effort  of  entire  abstinence.  This  is  the 
surest  and  shortest  w’ay  to  drain  off  the  river  of  fire  now 
flowing  through  the  land.  It  is  the  moderate  use  of  the 
temperate  that  keeps  open  the  smoking  fountains  from 
which  that  tide  is  poured. 

To  YOUNG  WEN  who  have  not  yet  been  brought  under 
the  dominion  of  intemperate  habits,  'we  address  the  urgent 
exhortation  of  this  cause.  Consider  the  immense  responsi- 
bility that  devolves  tipon  you.  It  is  not  too  much  to  say 
that  the  question,  whether  this  nation  is  to  be  delivered 
from  the  yoke  of  death- — whether  the  present  march  of 
reformation  shall  go  on  till  the  last  hiding-place  of  this  vice 
shall  be  subdued,  or  else  be  arrested  and  turned  back,  with 
the  sorrow  of  beholding  the  vaunting  tiiumph,  and  the 
emboldened  increase  of  all  the  mufisters  of  woe  which  attend 
in  the  train  of  intemperance,  rests  ultimately  with  you. 
You  compose  the  muscle  and  sinew  of  this  nation.  You 


THE  UNITED  STATES,  ON  TEMPERANCE  ] 9 

are  to  set  the  example  by  which  the  next  generation  is  to  he 
influenced.  By  your  influence  its  character  will  be  formed. 
By  your  stand  its  position  will,  in  a gr-eat  measure,  be  de- 
termined. You  are  soon  to  supplant  those  who  have  passed 
the  state  of  life  which  you  now  are  occupying.  Soon  the 
generation  that  is  to  grow  up  under  the  influence  of  your 
example  and  instruction,  will  have  reached  your  place. 
Thus  are  you  the  heart  of  the  nation.  Corruption  and  de- 
basement here  must  be  felt  to  the  extremities  of  the  na- 
tional body.  Temperance  here  will  eventually  expel,  by  its 
strong  pulsations,  the  last  remnant  of  the  burning  blood  of 
drunkenness  from  the  system,  and  carry  soberness  and 
health  to  every  member  of  oui’  political  constitution. 

Are  these  things  so?  Suppose  them  exaggerations. 
Grant  that  the  importance  of  your  vigorous  and  unanimous 
cooperation  in  this  work  of  reformation  is  unreasonably 
magnified;  still,  how  much  can  you  do.  Were  our  coasts 
invaded  by  a powerful  enemy,  come  to  ravage  our  cities, 
chain  our  liberties,  poison  our  fountains,  burn  our  harvests, 
and  carry  off  our  youth  into  perpetual  slaveiy,  what  could 
young  men  do?  To  whom  would  the  trump  of  battle  be 
sounded  so  effectually  ? Who  else  would  feel  upon  them- 
selves the  chief  responsibility  for  their  countiy’s  rescue? 
What  excuse  could  they  find  for  supineness  and  sloth  ? 
Such  indeed  is  the  enemy  by  which  the  country  is  already 
desolated.  And  now  it  is  to  the  warm  hearts,  and  the 
strong  hands,  and  the  active  energies,  and  the  powerful 
example  of  young  men,  that  the  dearest  interests  of  the 
nation  look  for  deliverance. 

Y oung  men,  shall  we  not  enlist  heartily  and  unitedly  in 
promoting  the  extermination  of  intemperance  ? What  ques- 
tion have  we  to  decide  ? Is  it  a question  whether  the  coun- 
try is  cursed  with  this  plague  to  a most  horrible  and  alarm- 
ing extent  ? No.  Is  it  a question  whether  the  present 


20 


ADDRESS  TO  THE  YOUNG  MEN  OF 


power  and  the  progressive  cliaracter  of  intemperance  among 
us  demand  an  immediate  rising  up  of  all  the  moral  force  of 
the  nation  to  subdue  it  ? No.  Is  it  a question  whether  the 
most  important  part  of  the  strength  and  success  of  such  an 
effort  depends  upon  the  part  in  it  wNicli  the  young  men  in 
the  United  States  shall  take  ? No.  Then  what  does  the 
spirit  of  patriotism  say  to  us  ?"  If  we  love  our  countiy ; if 
we  would  rise  in  arms  to  shake  off  the  hosts  of  an  invader 
from  our  shores  ; if  every  heart  among  us  would  swell  with 
indignation  at  the  attempt  of  an  internal  power  to  break  in 
pieces  our  free  constitution,  and  substitute  a government  of 
chains  and  bayonets ; what  does  the  love  of  country  bid  us 
do,  when  by  universal  acknowledgment  an  enemy  is  now 
among  us  whose  breath  is  pestilence  and  whose  progress 
desolation — an  enemy  that  has  already  done  and  is  daily 
doing  a more  dreadful  work  against  the  happiness  of  the 
people  than  all  the  wars  and  plagues  we  have  ever  suffered  ? 

What  does  the  voice  of  common  humanity  say  to  us  ? 
Can  we  feel  for  human  woe,  and  not  be  moved  at  the  spec- 
tacle of  wretchedness  and  despair  which  the  intemperance 
of  this  country  presents  ? Let  us  imagine  the  condition  of 
the  hundreds  of  thousands  wdio  are  now^  burning  with-  the 
hidden  flame,  and  hastening  to  utter  destruction  by  this 
most  pitiless  of  all  vices ; let  us  embrace  in  one  view'  tlie 
countless  woes  inflicted  by  the  cruel  tempers,  the  deep 
disgrace,  the  hopeless  poverty,  and  the  corrupting  exam- 
ples of  all  these  victims,  upon  wives,  children,  parents, 
friends,  and  the  morals  of  society ; let  us  stand  at  the  graves 
of  the  thirt)'  thousand  that  annually  perish  by  intemperance, 
and  there  be  still,  and  listen  to  what  the  voice  of  liumanitij 
speaks. 

AWiat  does  the  exhortation  of  religion  say  to  us?'What 
undermines  more  insidiously  every  moral  principle  of  the 
heart ; what  palsies  so  entirely  every  moral  faculty  of  the 


THE  UNITED  STATES,  ON  TEMPER ANOE.  21 

soul ; what  so  soon  and  so  awfully  makes  man  dead  while 
he  liveth  ; what  spreads  through  the  whole  frame-work  of 
society  such  rottenness,  or  so  effectually  opens  the  door  to 
all  those  powers  of  darkness  by  which  the  pillars  of  public 
order  are  crumbled  and  the  restraints  of  religion  are  mock- 
ed ; what  so  universally  excludes  from  the  death-bed  of  a 
sinner  the  consolations  of  the  Gospel,  or  writes  upon  his 
grave  such  a sentence  of  despair,  as  intemperance  ? Behold 
the  immense  crowd  of  its  victims ! Where  are  they  not 
seen?  Read  in  the  book  of  God  that  declaration,  “nor 
thieves,  nor  drunkards,  shall  inherit  the  kingdom  of  God 
then  listen  to  what  the  exhortation  of  Christian  benevolence 
speaks  to  us.  Is  it  asked.  What  can  young  men  do  ? We 
can  do  this  one  thing  at  least.  We  can  continue  temperate. 
What  if  every  one  of  us,  now  free  from  the  appetite  of 
strong  drink,  should  hold  on  to  our  liberty  ; how  would  the 
ranks  of  intemperance,  which  death  is  contmually  wasting, 
be  filled  up  ? But  horv  shall  we  continue  temperate  ? Not 
by  using  the  means  of  destruction.  Not  by  a moderate 
indulgence  in  the  cup  of  seduction.  Not  by  beginning 
where  all  those  began  who  have  since  ended  in  ruin.  But  by 
entire  abstinence  from  strong  drink.  Let  us  renounce  entire- 
ly what  cannot  profit  us,  what  forms  no  important  item  in  our 
comforts,  what  may  bring  us,  as  it  has  brought  such  multi- 
tudes as  strong  as  we,  to  the  mire  and  dirt  of  drunkenness. 

But  we  can  do  something  more.  We  can  contribute  the 
influence  of  our  example  to  help  bring  into  disrepute  the  use 
of  ardent  spirits  for  any  purposes  but  those  of  medicine.  If 
any  of  us  are  confident  that  we  could  go  on  in  the  moder- 
ate, without  ever  coming  to  the  immoderate  use  of  sti'ong 
drink,  we  know  that  the  deliverance  of  the  country  from  its 
present  curse  is  utterly  hopeless  while  ardent  spirit  is  in  the 
hands  of  the  people.  It  must  be  banished.  Public  opinion 
must  set  it  aside.  Young  men  must  contribute  to  form  that 

VOL.  VII. 


22 


ADDRESS  TO  THE  YOUNG  MEN  OF 


opinion.  It  cannot  be  formed  without  the  total  abstinence 
of  the  temperate.  Let  us  not  dare  to  stand  in  its  way. 

But  we  can  do  something  more.  We  have  an  influence 
which,  in  a variety  of  ways,  we  may  use  in  the  community 
to  diminish  the  temptations  which,  wherever  we  look,  are 
presented  to  the  imwary  to  entice  them  to  intemperance. 
We  can  employ  the  influence  of  example,  of  opinion,  and 
of  persuasion,  to  drive  out  of  fashion  and  into  disrepute, 
the  common  hut  ensnaring  practice  of  evincing  hospitality 
by  the  display  of  strong  drink,  and  of  testifying  friendship 
and  good-will  over  the  glass.  We  can  contribute  much 
powerful  cooperation  in  the  effort  to  make  the  use  of  ardent 
spirits  for  the  ordinary  purposes  of  didnk  so  unbecoming 
the  character  of  temperate  people,  that  he  who  wishes  to 
have  his  reputation  for  temperance  unsuspected,  will  either 
renounce  the  dangerous  cup,  or  wait  till  no  eye  but  that  of 
God  can  see  him  taste  it.  We  can  do  much,  in  union  with 
those  of  more  age  and  more  established  influence,  to  create 
a public  feeling  against  the  licensing  of  those  innumerable 
houses  of  corruption  where  seduction  into  the  miseries  of 
dnmkenness  is  the  trade  of  their  keepers,  and  the  means  of 
destruction  are  vended  so  low,  and  offered  so  attractively, 
that  the  poorest  may  purchase  his  death,  and  the  strongest 
ma}”^  be  persuaded  to  do  so.  These  horrible  abodes  of  ini- 
quity not  only  facilitate  the  daily  inebriation  of  the  veteran 
drunkard,  but  they  encourage,  and  kindle,  and  nourish,  and 
confirm  the  incipient  appetite  of  the  nonce,  and  put  forth 
the  first  influence  in  that  system  of  persuasion  by  which  the 
sober  are  ultimately  subdued  and  levelled  to  the  degrada- 
tion of  wretches,  from  whose  loathsomeness  they  once  turned 
away  in  disgust.  Why  are  these  instmments  of  cruelty 
permitted  ? Not  because  the  authorities  will  not  refuse  to 
license  them.  Public  opinion  is  the  conscience  of  those 
authorities.  Let  the  opinions  and  feelings  of  that  portion 


THE  UNITED  STATES,  ON  TEMPERANCE.  23 

of  the  community  where  the  strength  and  patronage  of 
society  reside,  be  once  enlisted  in  opposition  to  such  houses, 
and  the  evil  will  be  remedied ; the  morals  of  society  will 
not  be  insulted,  nor  the  happiness  of  families  endangered  at 
every  step  by  the  agents  and  means  and  attractions  of  in- 
temperance. Young  men  have  much  to  do,  and  are  capable 
of  doing  a great  work  in  creating  such  a public  opinion. 

In  order  to  exert  ourselves  with  the  best  effect  in  the 
promotion  of  the  several  objects  in  this  great  cause  to 
which  young  men  should  apply  themselves,  let  us  associate 
ourselves  into  Temperance  Societies.  We  know  the  impor- 
tance of  associated  exertions.  We  have  often  seen  how  a 
few  instruments,  severally  weak,  have  become  mighty  when 
united.  Every  work,  whether  for  evil  or  benevolent  pur- 
poses, has  felt  the  life,  and  spur,  and  power  of  cooperation. 
The  whole  progress  of  the  temperance  reformation,  thus  far, 
is  owing  to  the  influence  of  societies  ; to  the  coming  together 
of  the  temperate,  and  the  union  of  their  resolutions,  exam- 
ples, and  exertions,  under  the  articles  of  temperance  socie- 
ties. Thus  examples  have  been  brought  out,  set  upon  a 
hill,  and  made  secure.  Thus  the  weak  have  been  strength- 
ened, the  wavering  confirmed,  the  irresolute  emboldened. 
Thus  public  attention  has  been  awakened,  public  feeling 
interested,  hnd  public  sentiment  turned  and  brought  to  bear. 
Thus  works  have  been  performed,  information  distributed, 
agencies  employed,  and  a thousand  instruments  set  in  motion 
which  no  industry  of  individual  unassociated  action  could 
have  reached.  Let  temperance  societies  be  multiplied. 
Every  new  association  is  a new  battery  against  the  strong- 
hold of  the  enemy,  and  gives  a new  impulse  to  the  hearts 
of  those  who  have  already  joined  the  conflict.  Let  us  arise, 
and  be  diligent,  and  be  united ; and  may  the  God  of  mercy 
bless  our  work. 


■24 


ADDRESS  TO  YOUNG  MEN. 


THE  DRUNKARD  IN  HIS  FAMILY. 

His  example  is  seen  daily  in  the  house,  and  in  the  parent. 
It  is  seen  by  children  so  soon  as  they  can  see  any  thing,  and 
long  before  their  minds  are  capable  of  distinguishing  its  na- 
ture, or  its  tendency.  The  parent  visibly  regards  spirituous 
liquors  as  a peculiarly  interesting  enjoyment  of  sense,  at  a 
time  when  they  know  no  enjojunents  but  those  of  sense  : of 
course  they  cannot  hut  think  it  eminently  valuable.  The 
means  of  intoxication  are  also  provided  to  their  hand ; and 
then  own  home,  so  far  as  a dangerous  and  mahgnant  hiflu- 
ence  is  concerned,  is  changed  mto  a dram-shop.  The  mother, 
in  the  meantime,  not  unfrequently  contracts  the  same  evil 
habit  from  the  father ; and  thus  both  parents  unite  in  the 
unnatural  and  monstrous  employment  of  corrupting  their 
children. 

What  a prospect  is  here  presented  to  our  view ! A hus- 
band and  wife,  to  whom  God  has  given  cliildren  to  be  trained 
up  by  them  for  heaven,  united  together  in  taking  them  by 
the  hand,  and  leadiirg  them  coolly  to  perdition.  What  heart, 
not  made  of  stone,  can  look  at  such  a family  ndthout  feeling 
exquisite  distress,  and  the  most  terrible  forebodings  ? Con- 
template, for  a moment,  the  imiocent,  helpless  bemgs,  per- 
fectly unconscious  of  their  danger,  and  incapable  of  learning 
it,  thus  led  as  victims  to  the  altar  of  a modern  Moloch,  less 
sanguinary,  indeed,  but  not  les$  cruel  than  The  heathen  god 
before  Avhom  the  Israelitish  parents  burnt  then-  own  ofi- 
spring,  and  say,  whether  you  most  pity  the  cliildren,  or  detest 
the  parents.  Dr.  Dwight. 


¥H0  SLEA¥  ALL  THESE? 

AN  AUTHENTIC  NARRATIVE. 

About  twenty  years  ago,  Mr.  and  Mrs. , decent 

and  respectable  people,  removed  with  a family  of  children 
from  the  country  to  a neighboring  town,  where  they  pur- 
chased a small  house  and  lot,  and  lived  very  comfortably. 
Their  family,  however,  increasing  to  five  boys,  they  removed 
to  the  shore — the  town  being  situated  on  a river — and  in 
addition  to  their  former  means  of  obtaining-  a livinsc,  erected 
a sign,  and  provided  “entertainment”  for  such  as  chose  to 
call  on  them.  They  'were  temperate  people,  accounted 
honest,  and  sent  their  children  to  the  most  respectable 
school  in  the  place.  In  a short  time  it  was  perceived  that 
they  too  frequently  partook  of  the  “entertainment,”  as  it 
is  called,  which  they  provided  for  their  customers.  The 
habit  of  daily  measuring  the  poison  to  others,  induced  them 
to  taste  for  themselves ; their  house  was  not  as  respectable 
as  formerly  ; restraints  were  removed  ; and  although  they 
Avere  not  drunkards,  they  gave  evidence  that  they  used  too 
freely  the  deadly  dnig  which  they  fearlessly  handled.  If 
the  temperance  reformation  had  been  at  that  time  com- 
menced, they  might  have  been  Avarned  of  their  danger,  and 
saA'ed  from  ruin  ; but  nothing  arrested  their  progress  in  the 
path  of  the  destroyer. 

Their  children,  who  used  to  be  clad  with  garments  which 
denoted  a mother’s  industry,  soon  began  W bear  marks  of 
neglect,  and  Avere  by  degrees  AvithdraAvn  from  the  school — 
their  parents,  because  of  hard  times,  not  being  able  to  sup- 
port them  there.  They  consequently  lounged  about,  be- 
came acquainted  with  the  customers  at  the  bar,  and  learned 
tlieir  evil  habits,  especially  that  of  drinking. 

The  parents  had  commenced  the  sale  of  intoxicating 
drinks  to  become  rich ; but  at  the  end  of  a fe;iv  years  it  had 
reduced  them  to  poverty.  Tliey  had  lost  their  respecta- 
8* 


2 


WHO  SLEW  ALL  THESE  ? 


bility,  their  honesty,  and  their  property,  which  was  mort- 
gaged for  rum ; their  children  had  become  vagabonds,  and 
their  house  a receptacle  of  vice.  Of  all  their  five  sons,  not 
one  escaped  the  infection ; they  and  their  miserable  parents 
Avallowed  in  the  mire  together. 

In  consequence  of  the  dreadful  excess  to  which  she  had 

abandoned  herself,  the  imagination  of  Mrs.  became 

disordered,  and  conjured  up  horrible  visions.  In  her  fits 
of  the  delirium  tremens,  she  fancied  herself  bound  with  a 
belt  of  brass,  to  which  was  attached  a chain  held  by  the 
great  enemy  of  souls,  who  had  indeed  enchained  her  M-ith 
this  most  dire  and  effectual  of  all  his  spells.  She  would 
cross  the  room  with  the  rapidity  of  lightning,  screaming 
that  he  was  Avinding  up  the  chain,  and  she  must  go — she 
could  not  stop.  She  Avas  afraid  to  pass  her  own  threshold, 
and  fancied  she  heard  unearthly  voices,  and  saAv  spirits 
black  and  hideous  all  around  her.  “There  they  sit,”  she 

would  say,  “J , M ,”  mentioning  the  names  of 

all  her  children;  “thei'e  they  sit,  grinning  at  me,  and  tell- 
ing me  I sent  them  to  hell : they  are  on  the  beams  and  in 
the  corners,  and  where A-er  I go.” 

The  writer  of  this  has  often  witnessed  her  desperate 
struggles  ; has  seen  her,  Avhen  a gleam  of  reason  came  over 
her  mind,  Aveep  in  bitterness  over  her  ruin  and  misery  ; has 
heard  her  confessions  of  deeds  of  Aullany  committed  under 
her  roof;  and  has  heard  also  her  solemn  a'ows  to  refrain 
from  that  which  wrought  all  this  misery  and  sin ; but  after 
all  this,  has  seen  her  “seek  it  yet  again.” 

All  the  arguments  which  religion  can  ofi'er  Avere  set  be- 
fore her,  and  she  often  felt,  or  appeared  to  feel,  their  force, 
and  resolved ; but  the  deadly  wave  seemed  to  have  retired 
to  gather  neAv  force,  and  again  SAvept  over  her  and  pros- 
trated her  loAver  than  “the  beasts  that  perish.”  There  can 
be  no  more  effectual  barrier  against  the  voice  of  conscience, 
the  poAverful  influence  of  natural  affection,  and  the  striA'ings 
of  the  blessed  Spirit  of  God,  than  the  use  of  intoxicating 
drinks. 


WHO  SLEW  ALL  THESE  1 


3 


Her  husband  had  made  himself  literally  a beast : his 
appearance  was  scarcely  human;  bloated,  discolored,  tot- 
tering, uttering  curses,  and  sometimes  threatening  her  life. 
Her  constitution  after  a while  gave  way,  and  she  sank  in 
death,  snoring  out  the  few  last  days  of  her  existence  in  a 
state  of  stupor,  covered  with  rags  and  filth.  Her  husband 
had  so  benumbed  every  feeling  of  humanity  by  his  excess, 
that  he  seemed  very  little  affected  by  her  death  ; and  to  one 
who  reminded  him  of  their  former  respectability,  and  spoke 
of  the  wretched  state  to  which  they  were  reduced,  urging 
him  powerfully,  over  the  dead  body  of  the  self-murdered 
wife,  now  to  desist,  he  replied  stupidly,  that  there  is  an 
eleventh  hour. 

Four  or  five  years  have  elapsed,  and  he  is  still  in  the 
same  state  of  beastly  degradation — his  property  entirely 
gone,  and  he  occasionally  earning  a few  cents,  with  which 
to  purchase  the  poison  which  is  consuming  his  vitals,  and 
rendering  him  stupid  and  dead  to  every  motive  that  can  be 
urged  for  reformation. 

Two  of  the  sons  of  this  unhappy  man  have  gone  down 
to  death  in  an  awful  manner.  Another,  in  an  affray  occa- 
sioned by  intoxication,  received  such  an  injury  in  the  head, 
that  his  intellect  has  suffered,  and  he  is  subject  to  fits  of 
partial  derangement.  The  other  two  are  very  intemperate  ; 
one  of  them  apparently  lost  to  all  sense  of  shame. 

The  circumstances  attending  the  death  of  one  of  these 
young  men  were  extraordinary.  He  had  become  subject  to 
fits  in  consequence  of  his  intemperate  life  ; and  his  wife  fol- 
lowing the  same  course,  they  were  obliged  to  give  up  keep- 
ing a public-house,  and  he  maintained  himself  by  fishing. 
He  frequently  stopped  colored  people  and  others  who  were 
advertised  as  runaways,  and  obtained  a reward  for  return- 
ing them  to  their  masters.  He  was  brutally  cruel  in  his 
treatment  of  those  who  thus  fell  into  his  hands,  and  on  one 
occasion,  having  apprehended  a young  colored  man  on  sus- 
picion of  his  being  a runaway,  he  confined  him  ; and  taking 
bim  in  a boat  to  his  master — who  had  sent  him  from  home 


4 


Tv  no  SLEW  ALL  THESE  7 


on  business — as  he  was  returning,  he  fell  from  the  boat, 
jDrobably  in  a fit,  and  sank  like  lead  into  the  mighty  waters. 
On  the  following  day  search  was  made  for  his  body,  which 
was  found  swollen  and  disfigured,  and  laid  in  the  grave. 

His  brother,  the  youngest  of  the  five,  had  not  reached 
his  twentieth  year,  but  had  given  himself  up  to  the  influence 
of  the  vice  which  has  proved  the  destruction  of  his  family, 
until  he  also  was  subject  to  fits.  Xot  many  months  ago  he 
was  seized  with  one,  being  then  intoxicated ; he  Avas  recov- 
ered by  the  by-standers,  and  crawled  to  a small  sloop  lying 
partly  on  the  shore  for  repairs  : he  laid  himself  doAvn  there, 
and  Avas  found,  ten  minutes  afterwards,  dead,  with  his  head 
pailly  under  water.  It  was  supposed  that  another  fit  had 
seized  him,  and  that  m his  struggle  be  had  fallen  and  suflFo- 
cated. 

This  is  a melancholy  histoiy,.  but  a tnie  one.  Many  cir- 
cumstances rendering  it  more  striking  are  suppressed,  as 
some  of  the  parties  ai'e  liA'ing.  The  old  man,  but  a short 
time  ago,  was  Avarned  again,  and  the  question  put  to  him, 
“What  are  the  benefits  of  this  practice?”  “It  fattens 
graveyards,"  he  replied,  Avith  a distorted  countenance  and 
a horrid  laugh. 

Yes,  such  are  the  dire  results  of  intemperance;  and  of 
intemperance  not  bom  AAuth  one,  but  brought  on  by  a tem- 
perate use  of  ardent  spirit.  These  facts  are  Avell  known. 
They  are  published  Avith  the  hope  of  their  proving  a 
restraint  to  some  one  Avho,  trusting  in  the  strength  of  prin- 
ciple, may  occasional!}^  taste  this  destructive  poison. 

“ Look  not  upon  the  wine  Avhen  it  is  red,  Avhen  it  givetli 
his  color  in  the  cup,  Avhen  it  moA'eth  itself  aright : at  the 
last  it  biteth  like  a serpent,  and  stingeth  like  an  adder.” 
Uo  to  God  for  strength  to  resist  temptation ; practice  en- 
tire abstinence  from  all  that  can  intoxicate ; repent  of  sin, 
and  trust  in  the  mercy  of  Cluist ; and  you  shall  be  safe  for 
the  present  life  and  that  Avhich  is  to  come. 


PUBLISHED  BY  THE  AAIERICAX  TRACT  SOCIETY. 


THE  . 


EFFECTS  OF  INTEMPERANCE 


MOIUL,  INTELLECTUAL,  AND  PHYSICAL  POWERS. 


BY  THOMAS  SEWALL,  M.  D., 

PROFESSOR  OF  ANATOMY  AND  PHTSIOLOSY  IN  THE  COLOMBIAN  COLLEBE, 
WASHINGTON  CITY. 


I ADDRESS  you,  fellow-citizens,  to  enlist  your  sympathies 
and  efforts  in  behalf  of  an  institution  which,  in  accordance 
with  the  spirit  of  the  times,  has  been  established  through 
our  land  by  the  almost  united  voice  of  the  nation,  and  this 
for  the  suppression  of  one  of  the  most  alarming  evils  that 
ever  infested  human  society ; a vice,  too,  so  odious  in  its 
nature,  so  injurious  in  its  consequences,  and  attended  with 
so  many  circumstances  of  suffering,  mortification,  and  dis- 
grace, that  it  seems  difficult  to  understand  how  it  should 
ever  have  become  a prevalent  evil  among  mankind ; and 
more  especially  how  it  should  have  come  dowm  to  us  from 
tile  early  periods  of  society,  gaining  strength,  amfr  power, 
and  influence,  in  its  descent.  That  such  is  the  fact,  requires 
no  proof.  Its  devastating  effects  are  but  too  obvious.  In 
these  latter  times,  more  especially,  it  has  swept  over  our 
land  with  the  rapidity  and  power  of  a tempest,  bearing  down 
every  thing  in  its  course.  Not  content  with  rioting  in  the 
haunts  of  ignorance  and  vice,  it  has  passed  through  our  con- 
secrated groves,  has  entered  our  most  sacred  enclosures  : 
and  0,  how  many  men  of  genius  and  of  letters  have  fallen 


o 


TIJE  EFFECTS  OF  LNTEMPEnANCE, 


k 

before  it ; how  many  lofty  intellects  hare  been  shattered 
and  laid  in  rains  by  its  power ; how  many  a warm  and  phil-  , 
anthropic  heart  hag  been  chilled  by  its  icy  touch ! It  has 
left  no  retreat  unvisited  ; it  has  alike  invaded  our  public  and 
priyate  assemblies,  our  political  and  social  circles,  our  courts 
of  justice  and  halls  of  legislation.  "It  has  stalked  within  the 
very  walls  of  our  capitol,  and  there  left  the  stain  of  its  pol- 
luting touch  on  our  national  glory.  It  has  leaped  over  the 
pale  of  the  church,  and  even  reached  up  its  sacrilegious  arm 
to  the  pulpit  and  dragged  down  some  of  its  richest  orna- 
ments. It  has  revelled  equally  on  the  spoils  of  the  palace 
and  the  cottage,  and  has  seized  its  victims,  with  an  unspar- 
ing grasp,  from  every  class  of  society ; the  private  citizen 
and  public  functionary,  the  high  and  the  low,  the  rich  and 
the  poor,  the  enlightened  and  the  ignorant ; and  where  is 
there  a family  among  us  so  happy  as  not  to  have  wept  over 
some  of  its  members,  who  have  fallen  by  the  hand  of  this 
ruthless  destroyer  ? 

As  a nation,  intemperance  has  corrupted  our  morals, 
impaired  our  intellect,  and  enfeebled  om-  ph3^sical  strength. 
Indeed,  in  whatever  light  we  view  it,  whether  as  an  indi- 
vidual, a social,  or  national  eril,  as  affecting  our  personal 
independence  and  happiness,  our  national  wealth  and  indus- 
try ; as  reducing  our  power  of  naval  and  military  defence, 
as  enfeebhng  the  intellectual  energies  of  the  nation,  and 
undermining  the  health  of  our  fellow-citizens  ; as  sinking  the 
patriotism  and  valor  of  the  nation,  as  increasing  paupers, 
povert}',  and  taxation,  as  sapping  the  foundation  of  our  moral 
and  religious  institutions,  or  as  introducing  disorder,  distress, 
and  ruin  into  families  and  society ; it  calls  to  us,  in  a voice 
of  thunder,  to  awake  from  our  slumbers,  to  seize  every 
weapon,  and  wield  every  power  which  God  and  nature  have 
placed  within  our  reach,  to  protect  ourselves  and  our  fellow- 
citizens  from  its  ravages. 

But  the  occasion  will  not  permit  me  to  dwell  on  the  gen- 


THE  EFFECTS  OF  INTEMPERANCE. 


3 


eral  effects  of  intemperance,  nor  to  trace  the  history  of  its 
causes.  I shall,  therefore,  confine  myself  more  particularly 
to  a consideration  of  its  influence  on  the  individual ; its  effects 
on  the  moral,  intellectual"  and  physical  constitution  of  man — 
not  the  primary  effect  of  ardent  spirit  as  displayed  in  a fit  of 
intoxication ; it  is  the  more  insidious,  permanent,  and  fatal 
effects  of  intemperance,  as  exemplified  in  the  case  of  the 
habitual  dram-drinker,  to  w,hich  I wish  to  call  your  atten- 
tion. 

I.  The  effects  of  ardent  spirit  on  the  moral  powers. 
It  is  perhaps  dififlcult  to  determine  in  what  way  intemper- 
ance first  manifests  its  influence  on  the  moral  powers,  so 
variously  does  it  affect  different  individuals.  Were  I to 
speak  from  mjr  own  observation,  I should  say  that  it  first 
appears  in  an  alienation  of  those  kind  and  tender  sympathies 
which  bind  a man  to  his  family  and  friends ; those  lively 
sensibilities  which  enable  him  to  participate  in  the  joys  and 
sorrows  of  those  around  liim.  “ The  social  affections  lose 
their  fulness  and  tenderness,  the  conscience  its  power,  the 
heart  its  sensibility,  till  all  that  was  once  lovely,  and  ren- 
dered him  thte  joj''  and  the  idol  of  his  friends,  retires,”  and 
leaves  him  to  the  dominion  of  the  appetites  and  passions  of 
the  brute.  “ Religious  enjoyment,  if  he  ever  possessed  any, 
declines  as  the  emotions  excited  by  ardent  spirit  arise.” 
He  loses,  by  degrees,  his  regard  to  truth  and  to  the  fulfil- 
ment of  his  engagements — he  forgets  the  Sabbath  and  the 
house  of  worship,  and  lounges  upon  his  bed,  or  lingers  at 
the  tavern.  He  lays  aside  his  Bible — his  family  devotion  is 
not  heard,  and  his  closet  no  longer  listens  to  the  silent  whis- 
pers of  prayer.  He  at  length  becomes  irritable,  peevish, 
and  profane  ; and  is  finally  lost  to  every  thing  that  respects 
decorum  in  appearance,  or  virtue  in  principle ; and  it  is 
lamentable  to  mark  the  steps  of  that  process  by  which  the 
virtuous  and  elevated  man  sinks  to  ruin. 


4 


THE  EFFECTS  OF  INTEMPERANCE. 


II.  Its  effects  on  the  intellectual  poivers.  Here  the 
influence  of  intemperance  is  marked  and  decisive.  The  ine- 
briate first  loses  his  vivacity  and  natural  acuteness  of  per- 
ception. His  judgment  becomes  clouded  and  impaired  in 
its  strength,  the  memory  also  enfeebled  and  sometimes  quite 
obliterated.  The  mind  is  wandering  and  vacant,  and  inca- 
pable of  mtense  or  steady  application  to  any  one  subject. 
Tliis  state  is  usually  accompanied  by  an  unmeaning  stare  or 
fi.vedness  of  countenance  quite  peculiar  to  the  drunkard. 
The  imagination  and  the  will,  if  not  enfeebled,  acquire  a 
morbid  sensibility,  from  which  they  are  thrown  into  a state 
of  violent  excitement  from  the  slightest  causes : hence,  the 
inebriate  sheds  floods  of  tears  over  the  pictures  of  his  own 
fancy.  I have  often  seen  him,  and  especially  on  his  recov- 
ery from  a fit  of  intoxication,  weep  and  laugh  alternately 
over  the  same  scene.  The  will,  too,  acquires  an  omnipotent 
ascendency  over  him,  and  is  the  only  monitor  to  which  he 
yields  obedience.  The  appeals  of  conscience,  the  claims  of 
domestic  happiness,  of  wives  and  children,  of  patriotism  and 
of  virtue,  are  not  heard. 

The  different  powers  of  the  mind  having  thus  lost  their 
natural  relation  to  each  other,  the  healthy  balance  being  de- 
stroyed, the  intellect  is  no  longer  fit  for  intense  application, 
or  successful  effort ; and  although  the  inebriate  may,  and 
sometimes  does,  astonish,  by  the  wildness  of  his  fancy  and 
the  poignancy  of  his  wit,  yet  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten  he 
fails,  and  there  is  never  any  confidence  to  be  reposed  in 
him.  There  have  been  a few  who,  from  peculiarity  of  con- 
stitution, or  some  other  cause,  have  continued  to  perform 
intellectual  labor  for  many  years,  while  slaves  to  ardent 
spirits ; but  in  no  instance  has  the  vigor  of  the  intellect  or 
its  ability  to  labor  been  increased  by  indulgence  ; and  where 
there  is  one  who  has  been  able  to  struggle  on  under  the 
habits  of  intemperance,  there  are  thousands  who  have  per- 
ished in  the  experiment,  and  some  among  the  most  power- 


THE  EFFECTS  OF  INTEMPERANCE. 


O 


ful  minds  that  the  -world  ever  produced.  On  the  other 
hand,  we  shall  find,  by  looking  over  the  biography  of  the 
great  men  of  every  age,  that  those  who  have  possessed  the 
clearest  and  most  powerful  minds,  neither  drank  spirits  nor 
indulged  in  the  pleasures  of  the  table.  Sir  Isaac  Newton, 
John  Locke,  Dr.  Franklin,  John  Wesley,  Sir  William  Jones, 
John  Fletcher,  and  President  Edwards,  furnish  a striking- 
illustration  of  this  truth.  One  of  the  secrets  by  which  these 
men  produced  such  astonishing  residts,  were  enabled  to  per- 
form so  much  intellectual  labor,  and  of  so  high  a grade, 
and  to  arrive  at  old  age  in  the  enjoyment  of  health,  was  a 
rigid  course  of  abstinence.  But  I hasten  to  consider  more 
particularly, 

III.  Its  effects  on  the  physical  powers.  In  view  of 
this  part  of  the  subject,  the  attention  of  the  critical  observer 
is  arrested  by  a series  of  circumstances,  alike  disgusting  and 
melancholy. 

1.  The-  odor  of  the  hreatli  of  the  drimkard  furnishes  the 
earliest  indication  by  which  the  habitual  use  of  ardent  spirit 
becomes  know-n.  This  is  occasioned  by  the  exhalation  of 
the  alcoholic  principle  from  the  bronchial  vessels  and  air- 
cells  of  the  lungs — not  of  pure  spirit,  as  taken  into  the 
stomach,  but  of  spirit  which  has  been  absorbed,  has  mingled 
with  the  blood,  and  has  been  subjected  to  the  action  of  the 
different  organs  of  the  body  ; and  not  containing  any  prin- 
ciple which  contributes  to  the  nourishment  or  renovation  of 
the  system,  is  cast  out  with  the  other  excretions,  as  poison- 
ous and  hurtful.  This  peculiar  odor  does  not  arise  from 
the  accidental  or  occasional  use  of  spirit ; it  marks  only  the 
habitual  dram-drinker — the  one  who  indulges  daily  in  his 
potation ; and  although  its  density  varies  in  some  degree 
with  the  kind  of  spirit  consumed,  the  habits  and  constitution 
of  the  individual,  yet  it  bears  generally  a close  relation  to 
the  degree  of  intemperance. 

VOL.  VII. 


V 


6 THE  EFFECTS  OF  ES’TEJIPERAA’CE. 

These  observations  are  confirmed  by  some  experiments 
made  on  living  animals  by  the  celebrated  French  physiolo- 
gist, Magendie.  He  ascertained  that  diluted  alcohol,  a so- 
lution of  camphor,  and  some  other  odorous  substances,  when 
subjected  to  the  absorbing  power  of  the  veins,  are  taken  up 
by  them,  and  after  mingling  with  the  blood,  pass  off  by  the 
pulmonary  exhalants.  Even  phosphorus  injected  into  the 
crural  vein  of  a dog,  he  found  to  pass  off  in  a few  moments 
from  the  nostrils  of  the  animal  in  a dense  white  vapor,  which 
he  ascertained  to  be  phosphoric  acid.  Cases  have  occurred, 
in  which  the  breath  of  the  drunkard  has  become  so  highly 
charged  with  alcohol  as  to  render  it  actually  inflammable  by 
the  touch  of  a taper.  One  individual  in  particular  is  men- 
tioned, who  often  amused  his  comrades  by  passing  his  breath 
throuo'h  a small  tube,  and  settins:  it  on  fire  as  it  issued  from 
it.  It  appears,  also,  that  this  has  been  the  source  of  that 
combu^on  of  the  body  of  the  dmnkard  which  has  been 
denominated  spontaneous,  manj^  well-authenticated  cases  of 
which  are  on  record. 

2.  The  perspirable  matter  which  passes  off  from  the 
skin  becomes  charged  with  the  odor  of  alcohol  in  the  drunk- 
ard, and  is  so  far  changed,  in  some  cases,  as  to  furnish  evi- 
dence of  the  kind  of  spirit  drank.  “ I have  met  with  two 
instances,”  says  Dr.  McNish,  “the  one  in  a claret,  and 
the  other  in  a port  diVker ; in  which  the  moistm'e  that 
exhaled  from  their  bodieb  had  a ruddy  complexion,  similar 
to  the  Avine  on  which  they'iad  committed  their  debauch.” 

3.  The  whole  system  sodti  bears  marks  of  debility  and 
decay.  The  voluntary  muscles.lose  their  poAver,  and  cease 
to  act  Ainder  the  control  of  the- will;  and  hence,  all  the 
movements  become  awkAvard,  exhibiting  the  appearance  of 
stiffness  in  the  joints.  The  positions  of  the  body,  also,  are 
tottering  and  infirm,  and  the  step  loses  its  elasticity  and 
vigor.  The  muscles,  and  especially  those  of  the  face  and 
lips,  are  often  affected  Avith  a convulsive  twitching,  Avhich 


THE  EFFECTS  OF  INTEMPERANCE. 


7 


produces  the  involuntary  winking  of  the  eye,  and  quivering 
of  the  lip,  so  characteristic  of  the  intemperate.  Indeed, 
all  the  motions  seem  unnatural  and  forced,  as  if  restrained 
by  some  power  within.  The  extremities  are  at  length  seized 
with  a tremor,  which  is  more  strongly  marked  after  recovei-y 
from  a fit  of  intoxication.  The  lips  lose  their  significant 
expression,  and  become  sensual ; the  complexion  assumes  a 
sickly,  leaden  hue,  or  is  changed  to  an  unhealthy,  fiery  red- 
ness, and  is  covered  with  red  streaks  and  blotches.  The 
eye  becomes  watery,  tender,  and  inflamed,  and  loses  its 
intelligence  and  its  fire.  These  symptoms,  together  with  a 
certain  oedematous  appearance  about  the  eye,  bloating  of 
the  whole  body,  with  a dry,  feveiish  skin,  seldom  fail  to 
mark  the  habitual  dram-drinker  ; and  they  §'o  on  increasing 
and  increasing,  till  the  intelligence  and  dignity  of  the  man 
is  lost  in  the  tameness  and  sensuality  of  the  brute. 

But  these  effects,  which  are  external  and  obvious,  are 
only  the  “ signals  which  nature  holds  out,  and  waves  in  to- 
ken- of  internal  distress for  all  the  time  the  inebriate  has 
been  pouring  down  his  daily  draught  and  making  merry  over 
the  cup,  morbid  changes  have  been  going  on  within ; and 
though  these  are  unseen,  and,  it  may  be,  unsuspected,  they 
are  fatal,  irretrievable.  A few  of  the  most  important  of 
these  changes  I shall  now  describe. 

4.  The  stomach  and  its  functions.  This  is  the  great 
organ  of  digestion.  It  is  the  chief  instrument  by  w'hich 
food  is  prepared  to  nourish,  sustain,  and  renovate  the  dif- 
ferent tissues  of  the  body,  to  carry  on  the  various  functions, 
and  to  supply  the  waste  which  continually  takes  place  in  the 
system.  It  is  not  strange,  therefore,  that  the  habitual  ap- 
plication to  the  organ  of  any  agent,  calculated  to  derange 
its  functions,  or  change  its  organization,  should  be  followed 
by  symptoms  so  various  and  extensive,  and  by  conse- 
quences so  fatal.  The  use  of  ardent  spirit  produces  both 
these  effects ; it  deranges  the  functions  of  the  stomach. 


8 


THE  EFFECTS  OF  LXTEMPERAXCE. 


and  if  persisted  in,  seldom  fails  to  change  its  organic  struc- 
ture. 

The  inebriate  first  loses  his  appetite,  and  becomes  thirsty 
and  feverish  ; he  vomits  in  the  morning,  and  is  aft’ected  ■with 
spasmodic  pains  in  the  region  of  the  stomach.  He  is  often 
seized  'U’ith  permanent  dyspepsia,  and  either  "wastes  away  by 
degrees,  or  dies  suddenly  of  a fit  of  cramp  in  the  stomach. 

On  examining  the  stomach  after  death,  it  is  generally 
found  irritated,  and  approaching  a state  of  inflammation, 
with  its  vessels  enlarged,  and  filled  with  black  blood ; and 
particularly  those  of  the  mucous  coat,  which  gives  to  the 
internal  surface  of  the  stomach  the  appearance  of  purple 
or  reddish  streaks,  resembling  the  livid  patches  seen  on  the 
face  of  the  drunkard. 

The  coats  of  the  stomach  become  greatly  thickened  and 
coiTugated,  and  so  firmly  united  as  to  form  one  inseparable 
mass.  In  this  state,  the  walls  of  the  organ  are  sometimes 
increased  in  thickness  to  the  extent  of  ten  or  twelve  lines, 
and  are  sometimes  found  also  in  a scirrhous  or  cancerous 
condition. 

The  following  case  occurred  in  my  practice  several  years 
since.  A middle-aged  gentleman,  of  wealth  and  standing, 
had  lono'  been  accustomed  to  minsfle  in  the  comfivial  circle, 
and  though  by  no  means  a drunkard,  had  indulged  at  times 
in  the  use  of  his  old  cogniac,  with  an  unsparing  hand.  He 
was  at  length  seized  with  pain  in  the  region  of  the  stomach, 
and  a vomiting  of  his  food  an  hour  or  two  after  eating.  In 
about  eighteen  months  he  died  in  a state  of  extreme  ema- 
ciation. 

On  opening  the  body  after  death,  the  walls  of  the  whole 
of  the  right  extremity  of  the  stomach ‘were  found  in  a scir- 
rhous and  cancerous  condition,  and  thickened  to  the  extent 
of  about  two  inches.  The  cavity  of  the  orghn  was  so  far 
obliterated  as  scarcely  to  admit  the  passage  of  a pi-obe  from 
the  left  to  the  right  extremity,  and  the  opening  which  re- 


THE  EFFECTS  OF  INTEMPERANCE. 


9 


mained  was  so  unequal  and  irregular  as  to  render  it  evident 
that  but  little  of  the  nourishment  he  had  received  could  have 
passed  the  lower  orifice  of  the  stomach  for  many  months. 

I have  never  dissected  the  stomach  of  a drunkard,  in 
which  the  organ  did  not  manifest  some  remarkable  devia- 
tion from  its  healthy  condition.  But  the  derangement  of 
the  stomach  is  not  limited  to  the  function  of  nutrition  merely. 
This  organ  is  closely  united  to  every  other  organ,  and  to 
each  individual  tissue  of  the  body,  by  its  sympathetic  rela- 
tions. When  the  stomach,  therefore,  becomes  diseased, 
other  parts  suffer  with  it.  The  functions  of  the  brain,  the 
heart,  the  lungs,  and  the  liver,  become  disordered ; the 
secretions  are  altered,  and  all  the  operations  of  the  animal 
economy  are  more  or  less  affected. 

5.  The  liver  and  its  functions.  Alcohol,  in  every  form 
and  proportion,  has  long  been  known  to  exert  a strong  and 
speedy  influence  on  this  organ,  when  used  internally.  Aware 
of  this  fact,  the  poultry-dealers  of  England  are  in  the  habit 
of  mixing  a quantity  of  s^Dirit  with  the  food  of  their  fowls, 
in  order  to  increase  the  size  of  the  liver ; so  that  they  may 
be  enabled  to  supply  to  the  epicure  a greater  abundance  of 
that  part  of  the  animal,  which  he  regards  as  the  most  deli- 
cious. 

The  influence  of  spirit  on  the  liver  is  exerted  in  two 
Avays : first,  the  impression  made  upon  the  mucous  coat 
of  the  stomach  is  extended  to  the  liver  by  sympathy ; the 
second  mode  of  action  is  through  the  medium  of  the  circu- 
lation, and  by  the  immediate  action  of  the  alcoholic  principle 
on  the  liver  itself,  as  it  passes  through  the  organ,  mingling 
with  the  blood.  In  Avhichsoever  of  these  ivays  it  operates, 
its  first  effect  is  to  increase  the  action  of  the  liver,  and 
sometimes  to  such  a degree  as  to  produce  inflammation.  Its 
secretion  becomes -changed  from  a bright  yelloAV  to  a green 
or  black,  and  from  a thin  fluid  to  a substance  resembling  tar 
in  its  consistence.  There  soon  follows  also  an  enlargement 
VOL.  VII.  .33* 


10 


THE  EFFECTS  OF  LXTEMPEEANXE. 


of  tlie  liver,  and  a change  in  its  organic  structure.  I have 
met  with  several  cases  in  which  the  liver  has  become  en- 
larged from  intemperance,  so  as  to  occupy  a greater  part 
of  the  cavity  of  the  abdomen,  and  Aveighing  from  eight  to 
tAvelve  pounds,  Avhen  it  should  have  weighed  not  more 
than  four  or  five. 

The  liver  sometimes,  hoAvever,  even  when  it  manifests 
great  morbid  change  in  its  organic  structure,  is  rather  di- 
minished than  increased  in  its  volume.  This  was  the  case 
in  the  person  of  the  celebrated  stage-actor,  George  Fred- 
erick Cook,  who  died  a few  years  since  in  the  city  of  Xew 
York.  This  extraordinary  man  was  long  distinguished  for 
the  profligacy  of  his  life,  as  well  as  for  the  native  vigor  of 
his  mind  and  body.  At  the  time  of  his  death,  the  body 
was  opened  by  Dr.  Hosack,  who  found  that  the  liver  did 
not  ^exceed  its  usual  dimensions,  but  Avas  astonishingly  hard, 
of  a lighter  color  than  natural,  and  that  its  texture  was  so 
dense  as  to  make  considerable  resistance  to  the  knife.  The 
blood-vessels,  Avhich,  in  a healthy  condition,  are  extremely 
numerous  and  large,  were  in  this  case  nearly  obliterated, 
eAuncing  that  the  regular  circulation  through  the  liver  had 
long  since  ceased ; and  tubercles  were  fomid  throughout 
the  Avhole  substance  of  the  organ. 

I haAX  met  with  seAxral  cases  in  the  course  of  my  dissec- 
tions, in  Avhich  the  liver  Avas  found  smaller  than  natural, 
shrivelled,  indurated,  its  blood-vessels  diminished  in  size 
and  number,  with  the  Avhole  of  its  internal  structure  more 
or  less  changed.  In  consequence  of  these  morbid  changes 
in  the  liver,  other  organs  become  affected,  as  the  spleen, 
the  pancreas,  etc.,  either  by  sympathy  or  in  consequence  of 
their  dependence  on  the  health}^  functions  of  the  liver  for 
the  due  performance  of  their  own. 

6.  Of  the  brain  and  its  functions.  Inflammation  and 
engorgement  of  this  organ  are  frequent  consequences  of  in- 
temperance, and  may  take  place  during  a debauch — or  may 


TFIE  EFFECTS  OF  INTEMPERANCE. 


1 1 

arise  some  time  after,  during  the  stage  of  debility,  from  a 
loss  of  the  healthy  balance  of  action  between  the  different 
parts  of  the  system.  This  inflammation  is  sometimes  acute, 
is  marked  by  furious  delirium,  and  terminates  fatally  in  the 
course  of  a few  days,  and  sometimes  a few  hours.  At  other 
times  it  assumes  a chronic  form,  continues  much  longer, 
and  then  frequently  results  in  an  effusion  of  serum,  or  an 
extravasation  of  blood,  and  the  patient  dies  in  a state  of 
insensibility,  with  all  the  symptoms  of  compressed  brain. 
Sometimes  the  system  becomes  so  saturated  with  ardent 
spirit,  that  there  is  good  reason  to  believe  the  effusions, 
which  take  place  in  the  cavities  of  the  brain,  and  elsewhere, 
are  composed,  in  part  at  least,  of  the  alcoholic  principle. 
The  following  case  occurred,  not  long  since,  in  England, 
and  is  attested  by  unquestionable  authority. 

A man  was  taken  up  dead  in  the  streets  of  London,  soon 
after  having  drank  a quart  of  gin,  on  a wager.  He  was 
carried  to  the  Westminster  Hospital,  and  there  dissected. 

“ In  the  ventricles  of  the  brain  was  found  a considerable 
quantity  of  limpid  fluid,  distinctly  impregnated  with  gin,  , 
both  to  the  sense  of  smell  and  taste,  and  even  to  the  test  of 
inflammability.  The  liquid  appeared  to  the  senses  of  the 
examining  students,  as  strong  as  one-third  gin,  and  two- 
thirds  water.” 

Dr.  Armstrong,  who  has  enjoyed  very  ample  oppor- 
tunity of  investigating  this  subject,  speaks  of  the  chronic 
inflammation  of  the  brain  and  its  membranes,  as  frequently 
proceeding  from  the  free  use  of  strong  liquors. 

It  is  a fact  familiar  to  every  anatomist,  that  alcohol,  even 
when  greatly  diluted,  has,  by  its  action  on  the  brain  after 
death,  the  effect  of  hai-dening  it,  as  well  as  most  of  the  tis- 
sues of  the  body  which  contain  albumen ; and  it  is  common 
to  immerse  the  brain  in  ardent  spirit  for  a few  days,  in 
order  to  render  it  the  firmer  for  dissection. 

On  examining  the  brain  after  death  of  such  as  have  long 


12 


THE  EFFECTS  OF  IXTEMPERAN'CE. 


been  accustomed  to  the  free  use  of  ardent  spirit,  it  is  said 
the  organ  is  generally  found  harder  than  in  temperate  per- 
sons. It  has  no  longer  that  delicate  and  elastic  texture. 
Its  arteries  become  diminished  in -size,  and  lose  their  trans- 
parency, while  the  veins  and  sinuses  are  greatly  distended 
and  irregularly  enlarged. 

This  statement  is  confirmed  by  my  own  dissections,  and 
they  seem  also  to  be  in  full -accordance  with  all  the  intellect- 
ual and  physical  phenomena  displayed  in  the  dninkard, 
while  living. 

7.  The  heart  and  its  functions.  It  has  generally  been 
supposed,  that  the  heart  is  less  frequently  affected  by  in- 
temperance, than  most  of  the  other  great  vital  organs  ; but, 
from  the  history  of  the  cases  which  have  come  under  my 
own  observation,  I am  convinced  that  it  seldom  escapes 
disease  under  the  habitual  use  of  ardent  spirit.  And  why 
should  it,  since  it  is  thrown  almost  perpetually  into  a state 
of  unnatural  exertion,  the  very  effect  produced  by  the  vio- 
lent agitation  of  the  passions,  the  influence  of  which  upon 
this  organ  is  found  so  injurious  ? 

The  following  case  came  under  my  notice,  a few  winters 
since.  A large  athletic  man,  long  accustomed  to  the  use  of 
ardent  spirit,  on  drinking  a glass  of  raw  whiskey,  dropped 
instantly  dead.  On  carefully  dissecting  the  body,  no  ade- 
quate cause  of  the  sudden  cessation  of  life  could  be  found 
in  any  part,  except  the  heart.  This  organ  was  free  from 
blood,  was  hard  and  firmly  contracted,  as  if  affected  by 
spasms.  I am  convinced  that  manj'  of  those  cases  of  sudden 
death  which  take  place  with  intemperate  persons,  are  the 
result  of  a spasmodic  action  of  the  heart,  from  sympathy 
with  the  stomach,  or  some  other  part  of  the  system.  The 
use  of  ardent  spirit,  no  doubt,  promotes  also  the  ossification 
of  the  valves  of  the  heart,  as  well  as  the  development  of 
other  organic  affections. 

8.  The  lungs  and  their  functions.  Respiration  in  the 


THE  EFFECTS  OF  INTEMPERANCE. 


13 


inebriate  is  generally  oppressed  and  laborious,  and  especially 
after  eating  or  violent  exercise ; and  he  is  teased  with  a 
cough,  attended  with  copious  expectoration,  and  especially 
after  his  recovery  from  a fit  of  intoxication ; and  these 
symptoms  go  on  increasing,  and  unless  arrested  in  their 
progress,  terminate  in  consumption. 

This  affection  of  the  lungs  is  produced  in  two  ways  : 
first,  by  the  immediate  action  of  the  alcoholic  principle  upon 
the  highly  sensible  membrane  which  lines  the  trachea,  bron- 
chial vessels,  and  air-cells  of  the  lungs,  as  poured  out  by 
the  exhalants  ; and  second,  by  the  sympathy  which  is  called 
into  action  between  the  lungs  and  other  organs  already  in  a 
state  of  disease,  and  more  especially  that  of  the  stomach 
and  liver. 

I have  met  with  many  cases  in  the  course  of  my  practice, 
of  cough  and  difficult  breathing,  which  could  be  relieved 
only  by  regulating  the  functions  of  the  stomach,  and  which 
soon  yielded,  on  the  patient  ceasing  to  irritate  this  organ 
with  ardent  spirit.  I have  found  the  liver  still  more  fre- 
quently the  source  of  this  affection ; and  on  restoring  the 
organ  to  its  healthy  condition,  by  laying  aside  the  use  of 
ardent  spirit,  all  the  pulmonary  sjunptoms  have  subsided. 

On  examining^  the  lun^s  of  the  drunkard  after  death, 
they  are  frequently  found  adhei’ing  to  the  walls  of  the  chest; 
hepatized,  or  affected  with  tubercles. 

But  time  would  fail  me,  were  I to  attempt  an  account  of 
half  the  pathology  of  drunkenness.  Dyspepsia,  Jaundice, 
^Emaciation,  Corpulence,  Dropsy , Ulcers,  Rheumatism,  Gout, 
Tremors,  Palpitation,  Hysteria,  Epilepsy,  Palsy,  Lethargy, 
Apoplexy,  Melancholy,  Madness,  Delirium-tremens,  and  pre- 
mature old  age,  compose  but  a small  part  of  the  catalogue 
of  diseases  produced  by  ardent  spirit.  Indeed,  there  is 
scarcely  a morbid  affection  to  which  the  human  body  is 
liable,  that  has  not,  in  one  way  or  another,  been  produced 
by  it ; there  is  not  a disease  but  it  has  aggravated,  nor  a 

Temp.  Vol,  9 


14 


THE  EFFECTS  OF  INTEMPERANCE. 


predisposition  to  disease,  -vvlncli  it  has  not  called  into  action ; 
and  although  its  effects  are  in  some  degree  modified  by  age 
and  temperament,  by  habit  and  occupation,  by  climate  and 
season  of  the  year,  and  even  by  the  intoxicating  agent  itself ; 
yet,  the  general  and  ultimate  consequences  are  the  same. 

But  I pass  on  to  notice  one  state  of  the  system,  pro- 
duced by  ardent  spirit,  too  important  and  interesting  to 
leave  unexamined.  It  is  that  predisposition  to  disease  and 
death,  which  so  strongly  characterizes  the  drunkard  in  every 
situation  of  life. 

It  is  unquestionably  true,  th^t  many  of  the  suri'ounding 
objects  in  nature  are  constantly  tending  to  man’s  destruc- 
tion. The  excess  of  heat  and  cold,  humidity  and  dryness, 
noxious  exhalations  from  the  earth,  the  floating  atoms  in  the 
atmosphere,  the  poisonous  vapors  from  decomposed  animal 
and  vegetable  matter,  Avith  many  other  innsible  agents,  are 
exerting  their  deadly  influence  ; and  were  it  not  that  eA'ery 
part  of  his  system  is  endowed  with  a self-preserving  power, 
a principle  of  excitability,  or,  in  other  words,  a vital  principle, 
the  operations  of  the  economy  Avould  cease,  and  a dissolu- 
tion of  his  organic  structure  take  place.  But  this  principle 
being  implanted  in  the  system,  reaction  takes  place,  and 
thereby  a vigorous  contest  is  maintained  with  the  warring 
elements  without,  as  Avell  as  Avith  the  principle  of  decay 
Avithin. 

It  is  thus  that  man  is  enabled  to  endure,  from  year  to 
year,  the  toils  and  fatigues  of  life,  the  A'ariations  of  heat  and 
cold,  and  the  vicissitudes  of  the  seasons — that  he  is  enabled 
to  traverse  every  region  of  the  globe,  and  to  live  with  al- 
most equal  ease  under  the  equator  and  in  the  frozen  regions 
of  the  north.  It  is  by  this  poAver  that  all  his  functions  are 
performed,  from  the  commencement  to  the  close  of  life. 

The  principle  of  excitability  exists  in  the  highest  degree 
in  the  infant,  and  diminishes  at  every  succeeding  period  of 
life ; and  if  man  is  not  cut  doAvn  by  disease  or  A-iolence,  he 


THE  EFFECTS  OF  INTEMPERANCE. 


15 


struggles  oil,  and  finally  dies  a natural  death — a death  oc- 
casioned by  the  exhaustion  of  the  principle  of  excitability. 
In  order  to  prevent  the  too  rapid  exhaustion  of  this  principle, 
nature  has  especially  provided  for  its  restoration  by  estab- 
lishing a period  of  sleep.  After  being  awake  for  sixteen  or 
eighteen  hours,  a sensation  of  fatigue  ensues,  and  all  the 
functions  are  performed  with  diminished  precision  and 
energy.  Locomotion  becomes  feeble  and  tottering,  the 
voice  harsh,  the  intellect  obtuse  and  powerless,  and  all  the 
senses  blunted.  In  this  state  the  individual  anxiously  re- 
tires from  the  light,  and  from  the  noise  and  bustle  of  busi- 
ness, seeks  that  position  Avhich  requires  the  least  effort  to 
sustain  it,  and  abandons  himself  to  rest.  The  will  ceases  to 
act,  and  he  loses  in  succession  all  the  senses ; the  muscles 
unbend  themselves,  and  permit  the  limbs  to  fall  into  the 
most  easy  and  natural  position ; digestion,  respiration,  cir- 
culation, secretion,  and  the  other  functions,  go  on  with 
diminished  poAver  and  activity ; and  consequently  the  wasted 
excitability  is  gradually  restored.  After  a repose  of  six  or 
eight  hours,  this  principle  becomes  accumulated  to  its  full 
measure,  and  the  individual  awakes  and  finds  his  system 
invigorated  and  refreshed.  His  muscular  power  is  aug- 
mented, his  senses  are  acute  and  diacidminating,  his  intellect 
actAe  and  eager  for  labor,  and  all  his  functions  move  on 
with  renewed  energy.  But  if  the  stomach  be  oppressed 
by  food,  or  the  system  excited  by  stimulating  drinks,  the 
sleep,  though  it  may  be  profound,  is  never  tranquil  and  re- 
freshing. 

The  system  being  raised  to  a state  of  feverish  excite- 
ment, and  its  healthy  balance  disturbed,  its  exhausted  ex- 
citability is  not  restored.  The  individual  aAvakes,  but  finds 
himself  fatigued  rather  than  invigorated.  His  muscles  are 
relaxed,  his  senses  obtuse,  his  intellect  impaired,  and  his 
whole  system  disordered  ; and  it  is  not  till  he  is  again  Axnder 
the  influence  of  food  and  stimulus  that  he  is  fit  for  the  oc- 


16 


THE  EFFECTS  OF  INTEMPERANCE. 


cupations  of  life.  And  thus  he  loses  the  benefits  of  this 
wise  provision  of  repose,  designed  for  his  own  preserva- 
tion. 

Nothing,  probably,  tends  more  powerfully  to  produce 
preinatm'e  old  age,  than  disturbed  and  unrefreshing  sleep. 

It  is  also  true,  that  artificial  stimulus,  in  whatever  w’ay 
applied,  tends  constantly  to  exhaust  the  principle  of  excita- 
bility of  the  system,  and  this  in  proportion  to  its  intensity, 
and  the  freedom  with  which  it  is  applied. 

But  there  is  still  another  principle  on  which  the  use  of 
ardent  spirit  predisposes  the  drunkard  to  disease  and  death. 
It  acts  on  the  blood,  impairs  its  vitality,  deprives  it  of  its 
red  color,  and  thereby  renders  it  unfit  to  stimulate  the  heart 
and  other  organs  through  wdiich  it  circulates ; unfit,  also, 
to  supply  the  materials  for  the  dififerent  secretions,  and  to 
renovate  the  different  tissues  of  the  body,  as  well  as  to  sus- 
tain the  energy  of  the  brain — offices  which  it  can  perform 
only  while  it  retains  the  vermilion  color,  and  other  arterial 
properties.  The  blood  of  the  dnmkard  is  several  shades 
darker  in  its  color  than  that  of  temperate  persons,  and  also 
coagulates  less  readily  and  firmly,  and  is  loaded  with  serum ; 
appearances  which  indicate  that  it  has  exchanged  its  arterial 
properties  for  those  of  the  venous  blood.  This  is  the  cause 
of  the  livid  complexion  of  the  inebriate,  which  so  strongly 
marks  him  in  the  advanced  stage  of  intemperance.  Hence, 
too,  all  the  functions  of  his  body  are  sluggish,  irregular, 
and  the  wTiole  system  loses  its  tone  and  its  energy.  If 
ardent  spirit,  when  taken  into  the  system,  exhausts  the  vital 
principle  of  the  solids,  it  destroys  the  vital  principle  of  the 
blood  also ; and  if  taken  in  large  quantities,  produces  sud- 
den death  ; in  which  case  the  blood,  as  in  death  produced 
by  lightning,  by  opium,  or  by  violent  and  long-continued 
exertion,  does  not  coagulate. 

The  principles  laid  down  are  plain,  and  of  easy  applica- 
tion to  the  case  before  us. 


THE  EFFECTS  OF  INTEMPERANCE. 


17 


The  inebriate  ha-vnng,  by  the  habitual  use  of  ardent  spirit, 
exhausted  to  a greater  or  lesser  extent  the  principle  of  ex- 
citability in  the  solids — the  power  of  reaction — and  the 
blood  having  become  incapable  of  performing  its  offices  also, 
he  is  alike  predisposed  to  every  disease,  and  rendered  liable 
to  the  inroads  of  every  invading  foe.  So  far,  therefore, 
from  protecting  the  system  against  disease,  intemperance 
ever  constitutes  one  of  its  strongest  predisposing  causes. 

Superadded  to  this,  whenever  disease  does  lay  its  grasp 
upon  the  drunkard,  the  powers  of  life  being  already  enfee- 
bled by  the  stimulus  of  ardent  spirit,  he  unexpectedly  sinks 
in  the  contest,  and  but  too  frequently  to  the  mortification 
of  his  physician,  and  the  surprise  and  grief  of  his  friends. 
Indeed,  inebriation  so  enfeebles  the  powers  of  life,  so  modi- 
fies the  character  of  disease,  and  so  changes  the  operation 
of  medical  agents,  that  unless  the  young  physician  has 
studied  thoroughly  the  constitution  of  the  drunkard,  he  has 
but  partially  learned  his  profession,  and  is  not  fit  for  a prac- 
titioner of  the  present  age. 

These  are  the  true  reasons  why  the  drunkard  dies  so 
easily,  and  from  such  slight  causes. 

A sudden  cold,  a pleurisy,  a fever,  a fractured  limb,  or 
a slight  wound  of  the  skin,  is  often  more  than  his  shattered 
powers  can  endure.  Even  a little  excess  of  exertion,  an 
exposure  to  heat  or  cold,  a hearty  repast,  or  a glass  of  cold 
water,  not  unfrequently  extingmshes  the  small  remains  of 
the  vital  principle. 

In  the  season  that  has  just  closed  upon  us,  we  have  had 
a melancholy  exhibition  of  the  effects  of  intemperance  in 
the  tragical  death  of  some  dozens  of  our  fellow-citizens ; 
and  had  the  extreme  heat  which  prevailed  for  several  days 
continued  for  as  many  weeks,  we  should  hardly  have  had  a 
confirmed  drunkard  left  among  us. 

Many  of  those  deaths  which  came  under  my  notice 
seemed  almost  spontaneous,  and  some  of  them  took  place 

VOL.  VII. 


18  the  effects  of  intemperance. 

\ 

in  less  than  one  hour  from  the  first  symptoms  of  indisposi- 
tion. Some  died  apparently  from  a slight  excess  of  fatigue, 
some  from  a few  hours’  exposure  to  the  sun,  and  some  from 
a small  draught  of  cold  water ; causes  quite  inadequate  to 
the  production  of  such  effects  in  temperate  persons. 

Thus,  fellow- citizens,  I have  endeavored  to  delineate 
the  effects  of  ardent  spirit  upon  man,  and  more  especially 
to  portray  its  Influence  on  his  moral,  intellectual,  and  phys- 
ical powers.  And  now  let  me  mention  a few  things  w^hich 
MUST  BE  DONE  in  Order  that  the  evil  may  he  eradicated. 

1.  Let  us  keep  in  view  the  objects  of  the  Temperance 
Society,  and  the  obligation  imposed  on  us,  to  use  all  proper 
measures  to  discourage  the  use  of  ardent  spirit  in  the  social 
circle,  a t public  meetings,  on  the  farm,  in  the  mechanic  shop, 
and  in  all  other  places.  It  is  not  a mere  matter  of  formality 
that  we  have  put  our  names  to  this  society’s  constitution ; 
we  have  pledged  ourselves  to  be  bold,'  active,  and  perse- 
vering in  the  cause  ; to  proclaim  the  dangers  of  intemper- 
ance to  our  fellow-citizens,  and  to  do  what  we  can  to  arrest 
its  progress. 

In  view  of  these  objects  and  of  this  pledge,  then,  let  us, 
if  indeed  we  have  not  already  done  it,  banish  ardent  spirit 
from  oiu'  houses  at  once,  and  for  ever ; and  then  we  can  act 
with  decision  and  energy,  and  speak  in  a tone  of  authority, 
and  our  voice  will  be  heard,  if  precept  be  sanctioned  by 
example. 

2.  Let  us  use  our  utmost  endeavors  to  lessen  the  num- 
ber, and,  if  possible,  utterly  exterminate  fi-om  among  us 
those  establishments  which  are  the  chief  agents  in  propa- 
gating the  evils  of  intemperance.  I refer  to  those  shops 
which  are  licensed  for  retailing  ardent  spirit.  Here  is  the 
source  of  the  evil.  These  are  the  agents  that  are  sowing 
among  us  the  seeds  of  vice,  and  poverty,  and  wretchedness. 

How  preposterous,  that  an  enlightened  community,  pro- 


THE  EFFECTS  OF  INTEMPERANCE. 


19 


fessing  the  highest  regard  for  morality  and  religion,  making- 
laws  for  the  suppression  and  punishment  of  vice,  and  the 
promotion  of  virtue  and  good  order,  instituting  societies  to 
encom-age  industi-y,  enlighten  the  ignorant,  reclaim  the 
vicious,  bring  back  the  wanderer,  protect  the  orphan,  feed 
the  hungry,  clothe  the  naked,  bind  up  the  broken-hearted, 
and  restore  domestic  peace,  should,  at  the  same  time,  create 
and  foster  those  very  means  that  carry  idleness,  and  igno- 
rance, and  vice,  and  nakedness,  and  starvation,  and  discord 
into  all  ranks  of  society ; that  make  widows  and  orphans, 
that  sow  the  seeds  of  disease  and  death  among  us ; that 
strike,  indeed,  at  the  foundation  of  all  that  is  good  and 
great. 

You  create  paupers,  and  lodge  them  in  your  alms- 
house-— orphans,  and  give  them  a residence  in  your  asy- 
limi— convicts,  and  send  them  to  the  penitentiary.  You 
seduce  men  to  crime,  and  then  arraign  them  at  the  bar  of 
justice — immure  them  in  prison.  With  one  hand  you 
thrust  the  dagger  to  the  heart — with  the  other  attempt  to 
assuage  the  pain  it  causes. 

We  all  remember  to  have  heard,  from  the  lips  of  om- 
parents,  the  narration  of  the  fact,  that  in  the  early  history 
of  our  country,  the  tomahawk  and  scalping-knife  were  put 
into  the  hands  of  our  savage  neighbors,  by  our  enemies  at 
war,  and  that  a bounty  was  awarded  for  the  depredations 
they  committed  on  the  lives  of  our  defenceless  fellow-citi- 
zens. OiU’  feelings  were  shocked  at  the  recital,  and  a preju- 
dice was  created,  as  well  to  these  poor  wandering  savages, 
as  to  the  nation  that  prompted  them  to  the  work,  which 
neither  time  nor  education  has  eradicated.  Yet,  as  merci- 
less and  savage  as  this  practice  may  appear  to  us,  it  was 
Christian,  it  was  humane,  compared  with  ours : theirs 
sought  only  the  life-blood,  and  that  of  their  enemies  ; ours 
seeks  the  blood  of  souls,  and  that  of  our  own  citizens,  and 
friends,  and  neighbors.  Their  avarice  was  satiated  with  a 


20 


THE  EFFECTS  OF  INTEMPERANCE. 


few  indies  of  the  scalp,  and  the  death  inflicted  was  often  a 
sudden  and  easy  one  ; ours  produces  a death  that  lingers  : 
and  not  content  idth  the  lives  of  our  fellow-citizens,  it  rifles 
their  pockets.  It  revels  in  rapme  and  robbery ; it  sacks 
whole  towns  and  villages  ; it  lays  waste  fields  and  \dneyards ; 
it  riots  on  domestic  peace,  and  virtue,  and  happiness ; it 
sets  at  variance  the  husband  and  the  wife ; it  causes  the 
parent  to  forsake  the  child,  and  the  child  to  curse  the 
parent ; it  tears  asunder  the  strongest  bonds  of  society ; it 
severs  the  tenderest  ties  of  natm-e. 

And  who  is  the  author  of  all  this ; and  where  lies  the 
responsibility  ? I appeal  to  my  fellow-citizens. 

Are  not  we  the  authors  ? Does  not  the  responsibility 
rest  upon  us  ? Is  it  not  so  ? 

The  power  emanates  from  us ; we  delegate  it  to  the 
constituted  authorities,  and  we  say  to  them,  “ Go  on ; cast 
firebrands,  arrows,  and  death ; and  let  tJie  blood  of  those 
that  perish  be  on  us  and  on  our  children.”  We  put  the 
tomahawk  and  scalping-knife  into  the  hands  of  our  neigh- 
bors, and  award  to  them  a bounty.  W e do  more ; we 
share  the  pbmder.  Let  us  arouse,  my  fellow-citizens,  from 
our  insensibility,  and  redeem  our  character  for  consistency, 
humanity,  and  benevolence. 

3.  Let  us  not  confine  our  views  or  limit  our  operations 
to  the  naiTOw  boundaries  of  our  own  city  or  district.  In- 
temperance is  a common  enemy.  It  exists  eveiywhere, 
and  everywhere  is  pursuing  its  victims  to  destruction; 
while,  therefore,  we  are  actively  engaged  upon  the  subject 
in  our  own  city,  let  us  endeavor  to  do  something  elsewhere  ; 
and  much  may  be  done  by  spreading  through  our  country 
correct  information  on  the  subject  of  intemperance.  To 
this  end,  every  newspaper  and  eveiy  press  should  be  put 
in  requisition.  Circulate  through  the  various  avenues  suit- 
able tracts,  essays,  and  other  documents,  setting  forth  the 
causes  of  intemperance,  its  evils,  and  its  remedy,  together 


THE  EFFECTS  OF  INTEMTERAKCE. 


21 


with  an  account  of  the  cheeiing  progress  now  making  to 
eradicate  it. 

Do  this,  and  you  will  find  thousands  starting  up  in  dif- 
ferent parts  of  the  country,  to  lend  their  influence,  and  give 
their  money  in  support  of  your  cause  ; individuals  who  have 
hitherto  been  unconscious  of  the  extent  and  magnitude  of 
the  evil  of  intemperance.  You  will  find  some  who  have 
been  slumbering  upon  the  very  precipice  of  ruin,  rallying 
round  your  standard.  Indeed,  we  have  all  been  insensible, 
till  the  voice  of  alarm  was  sounded,  and  the  facts  wei’e  set 
in  array  before  us. 

4.  Appeal  to  the  medical  profession  of  the  country,  and 
ask  them  to  correct  the  false  idea  which  so  extensively,  I 
may  say,  almost  universally  prevails,  viz.,  that  ardent  spirit 
is  sometimes  necessary  in  the  treatment  of  disease.  This 
opinion  has  slain  its  thousands  and  its  tens  of  thousands, 
and  multitudes  of  dram-drinkers  daily  shelter  themselves 
under  its  delusive  mask.  One  takes  a little  to  raise  his 
desponding  spirits,  or  to  drown  his  sorrow  ; another,  to 
sharpen  his  appetite,  or  relieve  his  dyspepsia : one,  to  ease 
his  gouty  pains ; another,  to  supple  his  stiffened  limbs,  or 
calm  his  quivering  muscles.  One  drinks  to  overcome  the 
heat ; another,  to  ward  off  the  cold  ; and  all  this  as  a medi- 
cine. Appeal,  then,  to  the  medical  profession,  and  they 
will  tell  you — every  independent,  honest,  sober,  intelligent 
member  of  it  will  tell  you — that  there  is  no  case  in  which 
ardent  spirit  is  indispensable,  and  for  which  there  is  not  an 
adequate  substitute.  And  it  is  time  the  profession  should 
have  an  opportunity  to  exonerate  itself  from  the  charge 
under  which  it  has  long  rested,  of  making  drunkards.  But 
I entreat  my  professional  brethren  not  to  be  content  rvitli 
giving  a mere  assent  to  this  truth.  You  hold  a station  in 
society  which  gives  you  a commanding  influence  on  this 
subject ; and  if  you  will  but  raise  your  voice  and  speak 
out  boldly,  you  may  exert  an  agency  in  this  matter  which 
♦ 9* 


22 


THE  EFFECTS  OF  INTEMPERAN'CE. 


will  bring  down  the  blessings  of  unborn  millions  upon  your 
memory. 

5.  Much  may  be  done  by  guarding  the  rising  generation 
from  the  contagion  of  intemperance.  It  is  especially  with 
the  children  and  youth  of  our  land,  that  we  may  expect 
our  efforts  to  be  permanently  useful.  Let  us,  then,  guard 
with  peculiar  vigilance  the  youthful  mind,  and  with  all  suit- 
able measures,  impress  it  with  such  sentiments  of  disgust 
and  horror  of  the  vice  of  intemperance,  as  to  carise  it  to 
shrink  from  its  very  approach.  Carry  the  subject  into  om' 
infant  and  Sunday  schools,  and  call  on  the  managers  and 
teachers  of  those  institutions  to  aid  you,  by  the  circulation 
of  suitable  tracts,  and  by  such  other  instructions  as  may  be 
deemed  proper.  Let  the  rising  generation  be  protected 
but  for  a few  years,  and  the  present  race  of  drunkards  will 
have  disappeared  from  among  us,  and  there  will  be  no  new 
recruits  to  take  their  place. 

6.  Let  intelligent  and  efficient  agents  be  sent  out  into 
every  portion  of  our  country,  to  spread  abroad  information 
upon  the  subject  of  intemperance,  to  rouse  up  the  people 
to  a sense  of  their  danger,  and  to  form  temperance  societies  ; 
and  let  there  be  such  a system  of  correspondence  and 
cooperation  established  among  these  associations  as  will 
convey  information  to  each,  and  impart  energy  and  efficiency 
to  the  whole.  “ No  great  melioration  of  the  human  con- 
dition wms  ever  achieved  without  the  concuiTent  effort  of 
numbers ; and  no  extended  and  well-directed  association  of 

moral  influence  was  ever  made  in  vain.” 

* 

Y.  Let  all  who  regard  the  virtue,  the  honor,  and  the 
patriotism  of  their  countr}",  withhold  their  suffrages  from 
those  candidates  for  office  who  offer  ardent  spirit  as  a bribe 
to  secure  their  elevation  to  power.  It  is  derogatory  to  the 
liberties  of  our  cormtry,  that  office  can  be  obtained  by  such 
corruption — be  held  by  such  a tenure. 

8.  Let  the  ministers  of  the  Gospel,  wherever  called  to 


THE  EFFECTS  OF  INTEMP-EEANCE, 


23 


labor,  exert  their  influence,  by  precept  and  example,  in 
promoting  the  cause  of  temperance.  Many  of  them  have 
already  stepped  forth,  and  'vvith  a noble  boldness  have  pro- 
claimed the  alarm,  and  have  led  on  the  work  of  reforma- 
tion ; but  many  timid  spirits  still  linger,  and  others  seem 
not  deeply  impressed  with  the  importance  of  the  subject, 
and  with  the  responsibility  of  their  station.  Ye  venerated 
men,  you  are  not  only  called  to  stand  forth  as  our  moral 
beacons,  and  be  unto  us  burning  and  shining  lights,  but  you 
are  placed  as  watchmen  upon  our  walls,  to  announce  to  us 
the  approach  of  danger.  It  is  mainly  through  your  example 
and  your  labors  that  religion  and  mtue  are  so  extensively 
disseminated  through  our  country — that  this  land  is  not 
now  a moral  waste.  You  have  ever  exerted  an  important 
influence  in  society,  and  have  held  a high  place  in  the  con- 
fidence and  afl'ections  of  the  people.  You  are  widely  spread 
over  the  country,  and  the  scene  of  your  personal  labors  will 
furnish  you  with  frequent  opportunities  to  diffuse  informa- 
tion upon  the  subject  of  temperance,  and  to  advance  its 
progress.  Let  me  then  ask  you,  one  and  all,  to  grant  us 
your  active  and  hearty  cooperation. 

9.  Appeal  to  the  female  sex  of  our  country,  and  ask 
them  to  come  to  your  assistance ; and  if  they  will  consent 
to  steel  their  hearts  against  the  inebriate,  to  shut  out  from 
their  society  the  man  who  visits  the  tippling-shop,  their 
influence  will  be  omnipotent.  And  by  what  power,  ye 
mothers,  and  wives,  and  daughters,  shall  I invoke  your  aid  ? 
Shall  I carry  you  to  the  house  of  the  drunkard,  and  point 
you  to  his  weeping  and  broken-hearted  wife,  his  suffering 
and  degraded  children,  robed  in  rags,  and  poverty,  and  vice  ? 
Shall  I go  with  yoir  to  the  almshouse,  the  orphan  asylum, 
and  to  the  retreat  for  the  insane,  that  your  sensibility  may 
be  roused  ? Shall  I ask  you  to  accompany  me  to  the  peni- 
tentiary and  the  prison,  that  you  may  there  behold  the  end 
of  intemperance?  Nay," shall  I draw  back  the  curtain  and 


24 


THE  EFFECTS  OF  INTEMPERAXCE. 


disclose  to  you  the  scene  of  the  drunkard’s  death-hed  V 
No — I will  not  demand  of  you  a task  so  painful : rather  let 
me  remind  you  that  you  are  to  become  the  mothers  of  our 
future  heroes  and  statesmen,  philosophers  and  dmnes,  law- 
yers and  physicians ; and  shall  they  be  enfeebled  in  body, 
debauched  in  morals,  disordered  in  intellect,  or  healthy, 
pure,  and  full  of  mental  energy  ? It  is  for  you  to  decide 
this  question.  You  have  the  future  destiny  of  our  beloved 
country  in  your  hands.  Let  me  entreat  you,  then,  for  your 
children’s  sake,  and  for  your  country’s  sake,  not  to  ally  your- 
selves to  the  drunkard,  nor  to  put  the  cup  to  the  mouth 
of  your  offspring,  and  thereby  implant  in  them  a craving  for 
ardent  sphit,  Avhich,  once  produced,  is  seldom  ei'adicated. 

10.  Call  upon  all  public  and  private  associations,  relig- 
ious, literary,  and  scientific,  to  banish  ardent  spirit  from  their 
circle ; call  upon  the  agricultural,  manufacturing,  and  com- 
mercial establishments,  to  withhold  it  from  those  engaged 
in  their  employment ; call  upon  the-  legislatures  of  the  dif- 
ferent states  to  cooperate  by  the  enactment  of  such  laws  as 
will  discourage  the  vending  of  ardent  spirit,  and  render 
licenses  to  sell  it  unattainable ; call  upon  the  proper  officers 
to  banish  from  the  army  and  navy  that  article  which,  of  all 
others,  is  most  calculated  to  enfeeble  the  physical  energies, 
corrupt  the  morals,  destroy  the  patriotism,  and  damp  the 
courage  of  our  soldiers  and  sailors ; call  upon  om'  national 
legislature  to  impose  such  duties  on  the  distillation  and 
importation  of  ardent  spirit  as  will  ultimately  exclude  it 
from  the  list  of  articles  of  commerce,  and  eradicate  it  from 
our  land. 

Finally,  call  upon  every  sober  man,  woman,  and  child, 
to  raise  their  voices,  their  hearts,  and  their  hands  in  this 
sacred  cause,  and  never  hold  their  peace,  never  cease  their 
prayers,  never  stay  their  exertions,  till  intemperance  shall 
be  banished  from  our  land  and  from  the  world. 


BIKLE  ARGU31ENT 


FOR 

TEMPERANCE. 


BY  REV.  AUSTIN  DICKINSON. 


The  Bible  requii-es  us  to  “ present  our  bodies  a living- 
sacrifice,  holy  and  acceptable  unto  God  to  “ purify  our- 
selves, even  as  he  is  pure;”  to  “give  no  occasion  of  stum- 
bling to  any  brother;”  to  “give  no  offence  to  the  chm-ch 
of  God;”  to  “love  our  neighbor  as  ourselves;”  to  “do 
good  to  all  as  we  have  opportunity ;”  to  “abstain  from  all 
appearance  of  evil ;”  to  “ use  the  world  as  not  abusing  if;” 
and,  “ whether  we  eat  or  drink,  or  whatsoever  we  do,  to  do 
all  to  the  glory  of  God.” 

A Being  of  infinite  benevolence  could  not  prescribe 
rules  of  action  less  holy,  and  they  are  “ the  same  that  shall 
judge  us  in  the  last  day.”  Anj^  indulgence,  therefore,  not 
consistent  with  these  rules,  is  rebellion  against  the  great 
Lawgiver,  and  must  disqualify  us  for  “ standing  in  the  judg- 
ment.” 

As  honest  men,  then,  let  us  try  by  these  rules  the  com- 
mon practice  of  drinking  or  selling  intoxicating  liquor. 

The  use  of  such  liquor,  instead  of  enabling  us  to  “ pre- 
sent our  bodies  a living  sacrifice,  holy  and  acceptable,” 
actually  degrades,  and  ^prematurely  destroys  both  body  and 
mind.  Dr.  Rush,  after  enumerating  various  loathsome  dis- 
eases, adds,  that  these  are  “ the  usual,  natural,  and  legiti- 
mate consequences  of  its  use.”  Another  eminent  physician 
says,  “ The  observ'ation  of  twenty  years  has  convinced  me, 
that  were  ten  young  men,  on  their  twenty-first  birthday, 
to  begin  to  drink  one  glass  of  ardent  spirit,  and  were  they 

VOL.  VJll. 


2 


lilBLE  ARGUMENT  FOR  TEMPERANCE. 


to  drink  this  siipjDosed  moderate  quantity  daily,  the  lives  of 
eight  out  of  the  ten  would  be  abridged  by  ten  or  fifteen 
3’ears.”  When  taken  freely,  its  corrupting  influences  are 
strikingly  manifest.  And  even  when  taken  moderately,  very 
few  now  pretend  to  doubt  that  it  shortens  life.  But  nothing 
can  be  clearer,  than  that  he  who  thus  wilfully  cuts  short 
his  probation  five,  ten,  or  twenty  years,  is  as  truly  a suicide, 
as  if  he  slew  himself  violently.  Or  if  he  knowingly  encour- 
age his  neighbor  to  do  this,  he  is  equally  guilty.  He  is,  by 
the  law  of  God,  “ a murderer.” 

But  besides  prematurely  destroying  the  body,  alcoholic 
drink  injures  the  immortal  mind.  To  illustrate  the  blinding 
and  perverting  influence  of  even  a small  quantity  of  such 
liquor,  let  a strictly  temperate  man  spend  an  evening  with 
a dozen  others  indulging  themselves  “moderately:”  they 
Avill  be  sure  to  saj^  things  which  to  him  will  appear  foolish, 
if  not  wicked ; and  which  rvill  appear  so  to  themselves  on 
reflection ; though  at  the  time  they  may  not  be  conscious 
of  anjAmpropriety.  And  if  this  “moderate  indulgence” 
be  habitual,  there  must,  of  course,  be  an  increased  mental 
perversion ; till  conscience  is  “ seared  as  with  a hot  iron,” 
and  the  mind  is  lost  to  the  power  of  being  affected  by  truth, 
as  well  as  to  the  capacity  for  usefulness.  And  is  this 
destruction  of  the  talents  God  has  given,  consistent  with  the 
injunction  to  “glorify  God  in  body  and  spirit?” 

Again,  the  habit  of  drinking  is  incompatible  with  that 
eminent  holiness  to  which  you  are  commanded  to  aspire.  The 
great  Founder  of  Christianity  enjoins,  “Be  ye  perfect,  even 
as  your  Father  in  heaven  is  perfect.”  This  will  be  the  true 
Christian’s  desire.  And  a soul  aspiring  to  the  image  and 
full  enjo3’ment  of  God,  will  have  no  relish  for  any  counter- 
acting influence. 

Is  it  said,  that  for  eminently  holy  men  to  “ mingle  strong 
drmk”  may  be  inconsistent;  but  not  so  for  those  less  spir- 
itual ? This  is  making  the  want  of  spirituality  an  excuse 
for  sensuality ; thus  adding  sin  to  sin,  and  oul3'  provoking 
the  Most  High.  His  mandate  is  universal : “ Be  ye  holy, 
for  I am  holy.” 


BIBLE  ARGUMENT  FOR  TEMPERANCE. 


3 


To  this  end  you  are  charged  to  “ abstain  from  fleshly 
lusts,  -which  war  against  the  soul to  “ mortify  your  mem- 
bers, which  are  earthly;”  to  “exercise  yourselves  rather 
unto  godliness;”  to  “be  kindly  affectioned  toAvards  all 
men.”  But  who  does  not  know  that  “strong  drink,”  not 
onljr  “ eats  out  the  brain,”  but  “ taketh  away  the  heart,” 
diminishes  “natural  affection,”  and  deadens  the  moral  sen- 
sibilities, while  it  cherishes  those  very  passions  which  the 
Holy  Spirit  condemns  ? And  how  can  one  aspiring  to  the 
divine  image,  drink  that  which  thus  tends  to  destroy  all 
that  is  pure,  spiritual,  and  lovely,  Avhile  it  kindles  the  very 
elements  of  hell  ? 

The  rise  of  such  liquor  is  utterly  inconsistent  with  any 
thing  like  high  s^nritual  enjoyment,  clear  spiritual  views,  or 
true  devotion.  A sense  of  shame  must  inevitably  torment 
the  professor  Avho  in  such  a day  cannot  resist  those  “ fleshly 
lusts  which  war  against  the  soul ;”  his  brethren  Avill  turn 
from  him  in  pity  or  disgust ; and,  Avhat  is  infinitely  more 
affecting,  the  Holy  Spirit  will  not  abide  with  him.  Thus, 
without  an  approving  conscience,  Avithout  cordial  Christian 
intercourse,  Avithout  the  smiles  of  the  Comforter,  how  can 
he  enjoy  religion  ? 

Abstinence  from  highly  stimulating  liquor  or  food  has 
eAmr  been  regarded  indispensable  to  that  serenity  of  soul 
and  clearness  of  vieAvs  so  infinitely  desirable  in  matters  of 
religion.  Hence,  the  ministers  of  religion  especially,  Avere 
commanded  not  to  touch  any  thing  like  strong  drink  Avhen 
about  to  enter  the  sanctuary.  Lev.  10:9.  And  this,  it  is 
added,  shall  he  a statute  for  ever  throughout  your  genera- 
tions ; that  ye  may  put  difference  between  holy  and  unholy  ; 
clearly  showing  God’s  judgment  of  the  effect  of  temperance 
on  spiritual  discernment. 

On  the  principle  of  abstinence  we  may  account,  in  part, 
for  that  holy  ecstasy,  that  amazing  clearness  of  spiritual 
vision,  sometimes  enjoyed  on  the  deathbed.  “ Administer 
nothing,”  said  the  eloquent  dying  Summerfield,  “that  Avill 
create  a stupor,  not  even  so  much  as  a little  porter  and 
water — that  I may  have  an  unclouded  view.”  For  the  same 


4 


BIBLE  ARGUMENT  FOR  TEMPERAKCE. 


reason,  Dr.  Rush,  who  so  well  knew  the  effect  of  strong 
drink,  peremptorily  ordered  it  not  to  he  given  him  in  his 
last  hours.  And  it  is  recorded,  that  the  dying  Saiiottr, 
“ who  knew  all  things,”  when  offered  “ wine  mingled  ■with 
myrrh,”  “ received  it  not.''  The  truly  wise  will  not  barter 
visions  of  glory  for  mere  animal  excitement  and  mental  stu- 
pefaction. 

Equally  illustrative  of  our  principle  is  the  confession  of 
an  aged  deacon,  accustomed  to  drink  moderately : “ I always, 
in  prayer,  felt  a coldness  and  heaviness  at  heart — never  sus- 
pecting it  was  the  whiskey ! but  since  that  is  given  up,  I 
have  heavenly  communion!"  0,  what  an  increase  of  pure 
light  and  joy  might  there  be,  would  all  understand  this,  and 
be  temperate  in  all  things." 

The  use  of  such  liquor  is  inconsistent  with  the  sacred 
order  and  discipline  of  the  church.  A venerable  minister, 
of  great  experience,  gives  it  as  the  result  of  his  observation, 
that  nine-tenths  of  all  the  cases  calling  for  church  discipline 
have  in  former  years  been  occasioned  by  this  liquor.  This 
is  a tremendous  fact.  But  a little  examination  will  convince 
any  one  that  the  estimate  is  not  too  high.  And  can  it  be 
right  to  continue  an  indulgence  that  brings  tenfold,  or  even 
fourfold  more  trouble  and  disgrace  on  the  church  than  all 
other  causes  united  ? Do  not  these  foul  “ spots  in  your 
feasts  of  charity”  clearly  say,  “Touch  not  the  unclean 
thino-  ?”  Can  we  countenance  that  which  is  certain  to 
bring  deep  reproach  on  the  church  of  Christ?  “It  must 
needs  be  that  offences  come,  but  woe  to  that  man  by  whom 
the  offence  cometh.” 

The  use  of  alcoholic  liquor  by  the  religious  community 
is  inconsistent  with  the  hope  of  reforming  and  saving  the 
intemperate;  and  thus  shows  a want  of /owe  to  sowfs.  The 
Christian  knows,  that  drunkards  cannot  inherit  eternal  life. 
He  knows  also,  that  hundreds  of  thousands  now  sustain  or 
are  contracting  this  odious  character ; and  that  if  the  evil 
be  not  arrested,  millions  more  will  come  on  in  the  same 
track,  and  go  down  to  the  burning  gulf.  But  the  man  who 
drinks  just  so  much  as  to  make  himself  “feel  well,”  cannot 


BIBLE  ARGUMENT  FOR  TEMPERANCE. 


5 


reprove  the  drunkard  who  only  does  the  same  thing.  The 
drunkard  may  say  to  him,  “ My  appetite  is  stronger  than 
yours ; more,  therefore,  is  necessaiy,  in  order  to  make  me 
‘feel  well  f and  if  you  cannot  deny  yourself,  how  can  I 
control  a more  raging  appetite  ?”  This  rebuke  would  be 
unanswerable. 

All  agree  that  total  abstinence  is  the  only  hope  of  the 
drunkard.  But  is  it  not  preposterous  to  expect  him  to 
abstain,  if  he  sees  the  minister,  the  elder,  the  deacon,  and 
other  respectable  men  indulging  their  cups  ? With  mind 
enfeebled  and  character  lost,  can  he  summon  resolution  to 
be  singular,  and  live  more  temperately  than  his  acknow- 
ledged superiors  ?— -thus  telling  to  all  that  he  has  been  a 
drunkard!  This  cannot  be  expected  of  poor  sunken  hu- 
man nature.  No  ; let  moderate  drinking  be  generally  al- 
lowed, and  in  less  than  thirty  years,  according  to  the  past 
ratio  of  their  deaths,  armies  of  drunkards  greater  than  all 
the  American  churches,  will  go  from  this  land  of  light  and 
freedom  to  “ everlasting  chains  of  darkness.”  If,  then,  the 
drunkard  is  worth  saving,  if  he  has  a soul  capable  of  shin- 
ing with  seraphim,  and  if  you  have  “ any  bowels  of  mercies,” 
then  give  him  the  benefit  of  your  example.  Professing  to 
“do  good  to  all  as  you  have  opportunity,”  be  consistent  in 
this  matter.  By  a little  self-denial  you  may  save  multitudes 
from  ruin.  But  if  you  cannot  yield  a little,  to  save  fellow- 
sinners  from  eternal  pain,  have  you  the  spirit  of  Him  who, 
for  his  enemies,  exchanged  a throne  for  a cross  ? 

Could  all  the  Availings  of  the  thousand  thousands  slain 
by  this  poison  come  up  in  one  loud  thunder  of  remonstrance 
on  your  ear,  you  might  then  think  it  rvrong  to  sanction  its 
use.  But  “let  God  be  true,”  and  those  Availings  are  as  real 
as  if  heard  in  ceaseless  thunders. 

Again,  the  use  of  intoxicating  drink  is  inconsistent  ivith 
true  Christian  patriotism.  All  former  efforts  to  arrest  the 
national  sin  of  intemperance  have  failed.  A glorious  effort 
is  now  making  to  I'emove  it  Avith  pure  Avater. ' Thousands 
are  rejoicing  in  the  remedy.  Not  a'sober  man  in  the  nation 
really  doubts  its  efficacy  and  importance.  Who,  then,  that 
VOL.  viir. 


6 


BIBLE  ARGUMENT  FOR  TEMRERAN'CE. 


regards  onr  national,  cliaracter  can  hesitate  to  adopt  it  ? Es- 
pecially, who  that  is  a Christian,  can  cling  to  that  which 
has  darkened  the  pathway  of  heaven,  threatened  our  liber- 
ties, desolated  families  and  neighborhoods,  and  stigmatized 
us  as  a “nation  of  drunkards?” 

Is  it  said,  that  the  influence  of  a small  temperance  so- 
ciety, or  church,  is  unimportant  ? Not  so ; its  light  ma}'' 
save  the  surrounding  region ; its  example  may  influence  a 
thousand  churches.  And  let  the  thousand  thousand  pi'O- 
fessing  Christians  in  this  land,  with  such  others  as  they  can 
enlist,  resolve  on  total  abstinence — let  this  great  example 
be  held  up  to  view — and  it  would  be  such  a testimony  as  the 
world  has  not  yet  seen.  Let  siich  a multitude  show,  that 
these  drinks  are  unnecessary,  and  reformation  easy,  and  the 
demonstration  would  be  complete.  F ew  of  the  moral  would 
continue  the  poison ; thousands  of  the  immoral  abandon  it 
at  once ; and  the  nation  be  reformed. 

The  use  of  this  liquor  is  inconsistent  with  the  proper  in- 
fluence of  Christian  example.  The  Saviour  says,  “Let  vour 
light  so  shine  before  men,  that  they  may  see  your  good 
works,  and  glorify  your  Father  who  is  in  heaven.”  But 
.will  men  esteem  Christians  the  more  for  drinking,  and  thus 
be  led  to  glorify  God  on  their  behalf?  Or  will  the  Saviour 
praise  them  for  this,  “when  he  shall  come  to  be  glorified  in 
his  saints,  and  to  be  admired  in  all  them  that  believe  ?” 
Rather,  will  not  their  drinking  lead  some  to  excess,  and  thus 
sully  the  Creator’s  work  ? Nay,  is  it  not  certain,  that  if 
the  religious  community  indulge,  the  example  will  lead 
millions  to  drunkenness  and  perdition  ? And,  on  the  other 
hand,  is  it  not  morally  certain,  that  if  they  abstain,  their 
combined  influence  will  save  millions  from  infamy  and  ruin  ? 
How,  then,  in  view  of  that  day  when  all  the  bearings  of 
jmur  conduct  shall  be  judged,  can  you  hesitate  on  which 
side  to  give  your  influence  ? It  is  not  a little  matter  ; for 
who  can  conceive  the  results  of  even  one  impulse,  among 
beings  connected  with  others  by  ten  thousand  strings ! 

The  use  of  this  liquor  is  inconsistent  loith  that  harmony 
and  hrotherlu  love  which  Christ  requires  in  his  professed 


BIBLE  ARGUMENT  FOR  TEMPERANCE. 


7 


followers.  He  requires  them  to  “ love  one  another  with  a 
pure  heart,  fervently;”  to  “be  all  of  one  mind to  be  “of 
one  heart  and  one  soul.”  But  who  does  not  see  the  utter 
impossibility  of  this,  if  some  continue  an  indulgence  which 
nthers  regard  with  abhorrence  ? Since  public  attention  has 
been  turned  to  the  subject,  thousands  have  come  to  the  full 
conviction,  that  to  use  intoxicating  liquor  is  a sinful  as  well 
as  foolish  practice.  The  most  distinguished  lights  of  the 
church,  and  such  as  peculiarly  adorn  human  nature,  embrace 
this  sentiment.  And  how  can  jmu  associate  with  these,  and 
yet  continue  a habit  viewed  by  them  with  disgust  ? Ah, 
the  man,  however  decent,  who  “will  have  his  glass, 
caring  whom  he  offends,”  must  have  it ; but  he  must  also 
“ have  his  reward.'”  “ Whoso  shall  offend  one  of  these  little 
ones  which  believe  in  me,  it  were  better  for  him  that  a mill- 
stone were  hanged  about  his  neck.” 

The  use  of  intoxicating  drink,  in  this  day  of  light,  is  in- 
compatible with  the  hope  of  receiving  any  general  effusion  of 
the  Holy  Spirit.  Christians  are  allowed  to  hope  for  the 
Spirit  to  be  poured  out  only  in  answer  to  prayer — true, 
spiritual,  believing  prayer.  “If  they  regard  iniquity  in 
their  heart,  the  Lord  will  not  hear  them.”  If  they  wilfully 
cherish  sin,  they  cannot  have  faith.  Indeed,  how  odious 
the  spectacle  of  a company  looking  towards  heaven,  but  in 
the  posture  of  devotion  breathing  forth  the  foul,  fiery  ele- 
ment— literally  “ offering  strange  fire  before  the  Lord  !” 

We  are  not,  then,  to  expect  divine  influence  to  come 
down  “like  showers  that  water  the  earth,”  till  we  put  away 
that  which  we  know  tends  only  to  wither  and  consume  all 
the  “ fruits  of  the  Spirit.” 

The  waste  of  property  in  the  use  of  alcoholic  drink  is 
inconsistent  with  faithf  ul  steioardship  for  Christ.  Religious 
“contributions”  are  among  the  appointed  means  for  saving 
the  world.  But  allow  each  of  the  tens  of  thousands  of  pro- 
fessing Christians  in  this  land  only  three  cents  worth  of 
such  liquor  daily,  and  the  annual  cost  is  some  millions  of 
noLLARS  ; which  would  be  sufficient  to  support  thousands 
OF  MISSIONARIES.  Let  “ stewai’ds  ” of  the  Lord’s  bounty, 


8 


BIBLE  ARGUMENT  FOR  TEMPERANCE. 


then,  who  would  consume  their  portion  of  this  “little”  on 
appetite,  ponder  and  blush  for  such  inconsistency ; and  let 
them  hasten  to  clear  off  the  heavj^  charge,  “ Ye  have  rob- 
bed me,  even  this  whole  nation.” 

Again,  to  indulge  in  intoxicating  liquor  is  inconsistent 
with  attempts  to  recommend  the  Gospel  to  the  heathen,  iiloth- 
ing  has  done  more,  in  former  years,  to  prejudice  our  Indian 
neighbors,  and  hinder  among  them  the  influence  of  the  Gos- 
pel, than  those  liquors  we  have  encouraged  them  to  use. 
Several  tribes  have  set  the  noble  example  of  excluding  them 
by  the  strong  arm  of  law ; and  it  is  only  by  convincing  such 
that  reall}^  consistent  Christians  do  not  encourage  these  evils, 
that  our  missionaries  have  been  able  to  gain  their  confidence. 

The  same  feeling  prevails  in  some  distant  heathen  na- 
tions. They  cannot  but  distrust  those  who  use  and  sell  a 
polluting  drink,  which  they,  to  a great  e.xtent,  regard  with 
abhorrence. 

Suppose  our  missionaries  should  meet  the  heathen  with 
the  Bible  in  one  hand,  and  the  intoxicating  cup  in  the  other ; 
what  impression  would  they  make?  Nature  herself  would 
revolt  at  the  alliance.  And  nothing  but  custom  and  fashion 
have  reconciled  any  to  similar  inconsistencies  at  home. 

But  not  only  must  our  missionaries  be  unspotted,  they 
must  be  able  to  testify,  that  no  real  Christians  encourage 
this  or  any  unclean  thing.  With  such  testimony  they  might 
secure  the  conviction,  that  our  religion  is  indeed  elevating, 
and  that  our  God  is  the  true  God.  For  saith  Jehovah, 
“ Then  shall  the  heathen  know  that  I am  the  Lord,  when  I 
shall  be  sanctified  in  you  before  their  eyes.” 

Indulgence  in  this  drink,  especially  by  the  chui-ch,  is 
inconsistent  with  any  reasonable  hope  that  the  flood  of  intem- 
perance ivould  not  return  upon  the  land,  even  should  it  for  a 
season  be  dried  up.  The  same  causes  which  have  produced 
it  would  produce  it  again,  unless  there  be  permanent 
counteracting  influence.  Temperance  associations  are  un- 
speakably important  as  means  of  reformation.  But  they 
are  not  permanent  bodies ; their  organization  may  cease 
when  intemperance  is  once  done  away ; and  unless  the  prin- 


BIBLE  ARGUMENT  FOR  TEMPERANCE. 


9 


ciple  of  TOTAL  ABSTINENCE  be  generally  acknowledged  and 
regarded  as  a Christian  duty,  by  some  great  association  that 
is  to  be  perpetual,  it  may  in  time  be  forgotten  or  despised  ; 
and  then  drunkenness  will  again  abound.  Such  an  associa- 
tion is  found  only  in  “the  church  of  the  living  God.”  This 
will  continue  while  the  world  stands.  Let  the  principle  of 
ENTIRE  ABSTINENCE,  then,  be  recognized  by  all  members  of 
the  church,  and  such  others  as  they  can  influence ; arid  you 
have  a great  multitude  to  sustain  the  temperance  cause, 
“till  time  shall  be  no  longer.”  And  can  the  real  Christian, 
or  patriot,  think  it  hard  thus  to  enlist  for  the  safety  of  all 
future  generations  ? If  parents  love  their  offspring,  if 
Christians  love  the  millions  coming  upon  the  stage,  will 
they  not  gladly  secure  them  all  from  the  destroyer  ? Has 
he  a shadow  of  consistency  who  will  rather  do  that,  w'hich, 
if  done  by  the  church  generall}^  would  lead  millions  to 
hopeless  ruin  ? 

The  use  of  intoxicating  drink,  as  an  article  of  luxury  or 
living,  is  inconsistent  with  the  plain  spirit  and  precepts  of 
God's  word.  The  proper  use  to  be  made  of  it,  is  so  dis- 
tinctly pointed  out  in  Scripture,  that  men  need  not  mistake. 
It  is  to  be  used  as  a medicine  in  extreme  cases.  “ Give 
strong  drink  unto  him  that  is  ready  to  perish."  Its  com- 
mon use  is  condemned  as  foolish  and  pernicious.  “ Strong 
drink  is  raging ; and  w'hosoever  is  deceived  thereby,  is  not 
wise.”  “ They  are  out  of  the  wmy  through  strong  drink ; 
they  err  in  vision  ; they  stumble  in  judgment.”  Such  pas- 
sages show  clearly  the  mind  of  God  with  respect  to  the 
nature  and  use  of  this  article. 

Moreover,  it  is  said,  “Woe  unto  him  that  giveth  his 
neighbor  drink.”  But  does  not  every  man  who  sells  or 
uses  this  liquor,  as  a beverage,  encourage  his  neighbor  to 
drink,  and  thus  contemn  God’s  authority  ? Does  he  not 
aggravate  his  guilt  by  sinning  against  great  light?  And 
would  he  not  aggravate  it  still  further,  should  he  charge 
the  blame  on  the  sacred  word  ? 0,  w'hat  a blot  on  the 

Bible,  should  one  sentence  be  added,  encouraging  the  com- 
mon use  of  intoxicating  liquor  f “If  any  man  thus  add. 


10 


BIBLE  ARGUMENT  FOR  TEMPERANCE. 


God  shall  add  unto  him  the  plagues  that  are  written  in  this 
book.” 

To  encourage  the  manufacture  of  such  liquors  is  lo 
abuse  the  bounties  of  Providence.  When  God  had  formed 
man,  he  kindly  said,  “ Behold,  I have  given  you  every  herb 
bearing  seed,  which  is  upon  the  face  of  all  the  earth,  and 
every  tree,  in  the  which  is  the  fruit  of  a tree  yielding  seed  ; 
to  you  it  shall  be  for  meatP  God,  then,  it  seems,  intended 
men  should  use  the  fruits  of  the  earth  iox  food.  But  “ they 
have  sought  out  many  inventions.”  And  one  of  these  is, 
to  convert  these  “ gifts  of  God  ” into  a poison,  most  insid- 
ious in  its  nature,  and  destructive  both  to  soul  and  body. 
The  distiller,  the  vender,  and  the  consumer,  encourage  one 
another  in  this  perversion  of  God’s  gifts.  And  is  this  “ re- 
ceiving his  gifts  with  thanksgiving  ?”  Better,  infinitely  bet- 
ter, to  cast  them  at  once  into  the  fire,  and  say  unto  the  Al- 
mighty, “ We  have  no  need  of  these.”  But  the  ingratitude 
does  not  stop  here.  AVhen  men,  in  abuse  of  the  divine 
bounty,  have  made  this  poison,  to  give  it  currency,  they 
call  it  one  of  the  “creatures  of  God.”  AYith  as  much  pro- 
priety might  they  call  gambling  establishments  and  mur- 
derous weapons  his  “ creatures.”  But  how  aiyful  the  im- 
l)iety  of  thus  ascribing  the  worst  of  man’s  inventions  to  the 
benevolent  God ! 

For  a man  to  persevere  in  making,  selling,  or  using  in- 
toxicating liquor,  as  an  article  of  luxury  or  living,  while 
FULLY  KNOWING  ITS  EFFECTS,  and  qOOSSeSsiug  THE  LIGHT 
Providence  has  poured  on  this  subject,  is  utterly  incon- 
sistent with  any  satisfactory  evidence  of  piety.  “By  their 
fruits  ye  shall  know  them.”  And  what  are  his  fruits.  Why, 
as  w'e  have  seen,  he  wilfully  cuts  short  his  own  life,  or  the 
life  of  his  neighbor;  he  wilfully  impairs  memory,  j udgment, 
imagination,  all  the  immortal  faculties,  merely  for  sensual 
indulgence  or  paltry  gain  ; he  stupefies  conscience,  and  cher- 
ishes all  the  evil  passions ; lie  prefers  sordid  appetite  to 
pure  spiritual  enjoyment;  he  is  the  occasion  of  stumbling 
to  those  for  whom  Christ  died,  and  of  dark  reproach  on  the 
church  ; he  neglects  the  only  means  Providence  has  pointed 


BIBLE  ARGUMENT  FOR  TEMPERANCE. 


11 


out  for  saving  millions  from  drunkenness  and  pei’dition ; he 
wilfully  encourages  their  downward  course  ; he  refuses  the 
aid  he  might  give  to  a great  national  reform ; he  lends  his 
whole  weig,'ht  ao-ainst  this  refonnation : he  is  the  occasion 
of  offence,  grief,  and  discord  among  brethren ; he  grieves 
the  Holy  Spirit ; he  robs  the  Lord’s  treasury ; he  makes 
Christianity  infamous  in  the  eyes  of  the  heathen  ; he  disre- 
gards the  plain  spirit  of  the  Bible  ; and,  in  fine,  he  perverts 
even  the  common  bounties  of  Providence.  Such  are  his 
fruits.  And  the  man,  surely,  who  can  do  all  this  in  me- 
ridian light,  while  God  is  looking  on,  and  widows  and  or- 
phans are  remonstrating,  does  not  give  satisfactory  evidence 
of  •piety.  He  shows  neither  respect  for  God  nor  love  to 
man. 

Let  conscience  now  solemnly  review  this  whole  argu- 
ment by  the  infinitely  holy  law.  Is  it  indeed  right  and 
scriptural  to  impair  body  and  mind,  to  defile  the  flesh, 
cloud  the  soixl,  stupefy  conscience,  and  cherish  the  worst 
passions  ? Is  it  right  to  bring  occasions  of  stumbling  into 
the  church  ? Is  it  riafht  to  encourao-e  drunkards  ; l ight  to 
treat  with  contempt  a great  national  reform  ? Is  it  right 
to  offend  such  as  Christ  calls  “ brethren right  to  grieve 
the  Holy  Spirit,  and  hinder  his  blessed  influence  ? Is  it 
right  to  “ consume  on  lust  ” what  would  fill  the  Lord’s 
treasur}^ ; and  right  to  make  religion  odious  to  the  heathen  ? 
Is  it  right  to  leave  the  land  e.vposed  to  new  floods  of  intem- 
perance ; to  disregard  the  manifest  lessons  of  God’s  w'ord 
and  providence  ; and  to  convert  food  to  poison  ? Is  it  in- 
deed scriptural  and  right  to  sanction  habits  fraught  only 
with  wounds,  death,  and  perdition  ? Can  real  Christians, 
by  example,  propagate  such  heresy  ? 

Let  it  not  be  suggested  that  our  argument  bears  chiefly 
against  the  excessive  use  of  these  liquors  ; for  common  ob- 
servation and  candor  will  testify  that  the  moderate  use  of 
the  poison  is  the  real  occasion  of  all  its  woes  and  abomina- 
tions. Who  was  ever  induced  to  taste,  by  the  disgusting 
sight  of  a drunkard  ? Or  who  ever  became  a drunkard, 
except  by  moderate  indulgence  in  the  beginning  ? Indeed, 


12 


BIBLE  ARGUMENT  FOR  TEMPERANCE. 


this  habit  of  moderate  drinking  is,  perhaps,  tenfold  worse 
in  its  general  influence  on  society  than  occasional  instances 
of  drunkenness ; for  these  excite  abhorrence  and  alarm, 
while  moderate  indulgence  sanctions  the  general  use,  and 
betrays  millions  to  destruction.  0 never,  since  the  first 
temptation,  did  Satan  gain  such  a victory,  as  when  he  in- 
duced Christians  to  sanction  everywhere  the  use  of  intoxi- 
cating liquor.  And  never,  since  the  triumph  of  Calvarvj 
has  he  experienced  such  a defeat  as  they  are  now  sum- 
moned to  accomplish.  Let  them  unitedly  pledge  them- 
selves against  strong  drink,  and  by  diffusing  light  on  this 
subject,  do  as  much  to  expose  as  they  have  done  to  encour- 
age this  grand  device  of  Satan,  and  mighty  rivers  of  death 
will  soon  be  dried  up. 

In  this  work  of  light  and  love,  then,  be  generous,  “ be 
sober,  be  self-denying,  be  vigilant,  be  of  one  mind  for 
the  great  adversary,  “as  a roaring  lion,  walketh  about.” 
And  possibl}^  through  apathy,  or  discord,  or  treason  among 
professed  friends  of  temperance,  “ Satan  may  yet  get  an 
advantacre,”  and  turn  our  fair  morning  into  a heavier  night 
of  darkness,  and  tempest,  and  war.  But  woe  to  that  man 
Avho,  in  this  day  of  light,  shall  wilfully  encourage  the  ex- 
citing cause  of  such  evils.  And  heaviest  woe  to  him  who 
shall  avail  himself  of  a standing  in  the  church  for  this  pur- 
pose. I hear  for  such  a loud  remonstrance  from  countless 
millions  yet  unborn,  and  a louder  still  from  the  throne  of 
eternal  Justice. 

But  “ though  we  thus  speak,”  we  hope  better  things, 
especially  from  the  decided  followers  of  the  Lamb,  of  every 
name ; “ things  which  make  for  peace,  things  wherewith 
one  may  edify  another,  and  things  which  accompany  salva- 
tion ” to  a dying  world. 


FOUR  REASONS 


AGAINST  THE 

USE  OE  ALCOHOLIC  LIQUORS 


BY  JOHN  GRIDLEY,  M.  D. 


In  presenting  this  subject,  it  shall  be  my  aim  to  state 
and  illustrate  such  facts  and  principles  as  shall  induce  every 
man,  woman,  and  child,  capable  of  contemplating  truth  and 
appreciating  motive,  to  exert  the  whole  weight  of  their  in- 
fluence in  favor  of.  the  “ Temperance  Reform.”  There 
are  Four  Reasons  which  claim  special  attention. 

The  FIRST  REASON  we  would  urge,  why  the  use  of  alco- 
holic liquors  should  be  altogether  dispensed  with,  is  their 
immense  cost  to  the  consumers.  It  is  estimated  from  data 
as  unerring  as  custom-house  books,  and  the  declarations  of 
the  manufacturers  of  domestic  distilled  spirit,  that  previous 
to  1826,  60,000,000  gallons  of  ardent  spirit  were  annually 
consumed  in  these  United  States ; the  average  cost  of 
which  is  moderately  stated  at  fifty  cents  per  gallon,  and  in 
the  aggregate  thirty  millions  of  dollars. 

Thirty  millions  of  dollars  annually  ! A sum  which,  if 
spread  out  in  one  dollar  bank-notes,  end  to  end,  would 
reach  across  the  Atlantic.  Or,  if  in  silver  dollars  piled  one 
upon  the  other,  would  form  a column  nearly  thirty  miles 
high ; and  which  it  would  occupy  a man  twelve  hours  in 
each  day,  for  almost  two  years,  to  enumerate,  allowing  him 
to  count  one  every  second.  Or  to  suppose  a useful  appli- 
cation of  this  fund,  it  would  support  annually  from  two  to 
three  hundred  thousand  young  men  in  preparing  for  the  Gos- 
pel ministry.  In  three  years  it  is  a sum  more  than  equal  to 
the  supply  of  a Bible  to 'every  family  *011  the  habitable  globe. 

Temp.  Vol.  | 0 


2 


FOUR  REASONS  AGAINST 


One-lialf  the  amount  Avould  defray  all  the  ordinary  expenses 
incident  to  the  carrying  on  of  our  nation’s  governmental 
operations  every  3mar.'  Thus  I might  multiply  object  upon 
object,  which  this  vast  sum  is  adequate  to  accomplish,  and 
carry  the  mind  from  comparison  to  comparison  in  estimat- 
ing its  immense  amount ; still  the  cost,  thus  considered  as 
involving  the  incuniary  resources  of  the  country,  is  a mere 
item  of  the  aggregate,  wdien  the  loss  of  time,  waste  of  provi- 
dential bounty,  neglect  of  business,  etc.,  incident  to  the 
consumption  of  this  one  article,  are  thrown  into  the  account. 

A SECOND  REASON  wliy  its  use  should  be  condemned  is, 
the  entire  inadequacy  of  any  property  it  possesses  to  impart 
the  least  benefit,  either  nutrient,  or  in  any  other  way  sub- 
stantially to  the  consumer,  to  say  nothing  just  now  of  its 
never-failing  injurious  effects.  Alcohol  consists  chemically 
in  a state  of  purity  of  carbon,  oxygen,  and  hydrogen ; in 
the  proportions  of  carbon  about  52  parts,  oxygen  34,  and 
hydrogen  14  to  the  100.  The  addition  of  water  forms  the 
various  proof  spirits.  It  can  be  generated  in  no  Avay  but 
by  fermentation:  no  skill  of  art  has  yet  been  able  to  com-, 
bine  the  above  elements  in  such  proportions,  or  relations,  as 
to  produce  alcohol,  except  by  heat  and  moisture  inciting 
fermentation  in  vegetable  substances.  But  it  should  be 
understood,  that  vegetables  may  undergo  a certain  degree 
of  fermentation  without  producing  alcohol ; or,  if  suffered 
to  produce  it,  another  stage  of  fermentation  will  radically 
destroy  it,  and  produce  an  acid.  Thus,  any  of  the  vege- 
table substances,  as  corn  or  rye,  subjected  to  a certam  de- 
gree of  heat  and  moisture,  will  soon  suffer  a decomposition, 
and  a development  of  sugar,  to  a greater  or  less  degree, 
will  take  place.  If  removed  now  from  circumstances  favor- 
able to  its  fartlier  fermentation,  as  is  the  case  with  dough 
for  bread,  etc.,  no  appreciable  quantity  of  alcohol  is  created. 
K further  degree  of  fermentation,  however,  is  generative  of 
alcohol,  and  if  arrested  here,  the  alcohol  maintains  its  de- 
cided character ; while  still  another  stage  presents  the  ace- 
tous state,  and  the  alcoholic  property  is  lost  in  vinegar.  As 


THE  USE  OF  ALCOHOLIC  LIQUORS.  3 

in  our  opinion,  success  to  tlie  temperance  cause  depends  much 
upou  a right  understanding  of  what  alcohol  is,  and  the  man- 
ner of  its  production,  a more  simple  illustration  may  not  be 
inappropriate  here. 

A farmer  takes  a quantity  of  apples  to  the  mill  in  order 
to  convei't  them  into  cider.  He  grinds,  then  lays  them  up 
into  a cheese,  when  pressure  is  applied,  and  the  juice  runs 
into  a vat  placed  to  receive  it.  Here,  at  this  stage  of  the 
business,  there  is  no  alcohol  in  the  juice.  It  is  now  put  into 
casks,  and  the  sweet  or  sugar  stage  of  fermentation,  which 
is  already  begun,  soon  passes  into  the  vinous  or  alcoholic 
stage,  as  it  is  called,  and  alcohol  is  formed.  The  prudent 
farmer,  at  this  point,  when  the  juice  is  done  working,  or 
fermenting,  immediately  bungs  his  casks,  and  does  such 
other  things  as  his  skill  and  experience  may  suggest,  to 
prevent  his  cider  becoming  soiu’,  which  it  will  do  if  the  third 
stage  of  fermentation  is  permitted  to  succeed.  Here,  then, 
he  has  perfect  alcohol,  though  in  small  proportions  ; as  per- 
fect as  it  is  in  brandy,  gin,  rum,  and  whiskey.  The  same 
results  ensue  from  subjecting  corn,  rye,  barley,  etc.,  to  such 
processes  as  is  customary  to  prepare  them  for  distillation, 
namely,  to  such  a degree  of  fermentation  as  that  alcohol  is 
formed.  And  when  the  alcohol  is  formed  by  fermentation, 
then  it  is  drawn  oft’,  by  distilling,  from  its  union  with  the 
other  materials  in  the  fermented  mass.  Alcohol,  then,  is 
-strictly  the  product  of  fermentation.  It  is  not,  and  cannot 
be  produced  in  any  other  way.  To  distil,  therefore,  is  only 
to  lead  it  off  from  its  union  with  the  vegetable  mass,  and 
show  it  naked  with  all  its  virulence. 

Having  considered  the  manner  in  which  alcohol  is 
formed,  let  us  examine  some  of  its  properties.  It  contains 
nothing  that  can  afford  any  nourishment  to  the  bodv,  and 
consequently  it  can  impart  no  strength.  When  taken  in 
certain  quantities,  diluted  with  water,  as  it  must  be  for 
common  use,  its  effect  is,  to  ai'ouse  the  energies  of  the  sys- 
tem, and  for  a while  the  individual  feels  stronger  ; but  tliis 
excitement  is  always  followed  by  depression  and  loss  of 


4 


FOUR  REASONS  AGAINST 


animal  and  mental  vigor.  Thus  it  is  a mere  provocative  to 
momentary  personal  effort,  without  affording  any  resources 
to  direct  or  execute.  Hence  the  fallacy  of  that  doctrine 
held  by  some,  that  to  accomplish  deeds  of  daring,  feats  of 
muscular  strength,  etc.,  ■\\dth  success,  demands  the  drinking 
of  spirituous  liquors.  Were  I about  to  storm  an  enemy’s 
battery,  with  no  alternative  before  me  but  victory  or  death, 
I might,  principle  aside,  infuriate  my  men  with  the  madden- 
ing influence  of  ardent  spirit,  and  let  them  loose  upon  the 
charge,  as  I would  a wounded  elephant,  or  an  enraged 
tiger.  But  in  attaining  an  object  to  which  the  combined 
energies  of  mind  and  body  were  requisite,  I should  never 
think  of  the  appropriateness  of  spirituous  liquor  to  aid  the 
effort. 

But  an  objector  says,  “ I certainly  feel  stronger  upon 
drinking  a glass  of  spirit  and  water,  and  can  do  more  work 
than  I can  without  it.  I can  swing  a scythe  with  more 
nerve,  or  pitch  a load  of  hay  in  less  time ; and  feel  a general 
invigoration  of  my  body  during  the  heat  of  a summer’s  day, 
after  having  drank  a quantity  of  grog.  How  is  this  ?”  We 
reply,  doubtless  you  feel  for  the  moment  all  that  you  de- 
scribe ; but  your  feeling  strength  thus  suddenly  excited,  is 
far  from  being  proof  that  you  are  really  any  stronger.  The 
opposite  is  the  fact ; which  we  infer  from  the  inadequacy 
of  any  substance,  be  it  ever  so  nutritious,  to  impart  strength 
so  suddenly,  as  it  would  seem  ardent  spirit  did  when  drank ; 
for  there  has  not  been  sufficient  time  for  digestion,  through 
Avhich  process  only  can  any  substantial  nourishment  be  de- 
lived  to  the  body.  The  apparent  strength  which  an  indi- 
vidual feels  upon  drinking  ardent  spirit,  is  the  same  in  kind, 
though  not  in  degree,  with  that  which  a man  feels  who  has 
lain  sick  with  a fever  fifteen  or  twenty  days,  during  which 
time  he  has  taken  little  food,  and  been  subjected  to  the 
weakening  influence  of  medicines ; but  who  on  a sudden 
manifests  great  strength,  striving  to  rise  from  his  bed,  etc., 
and  in  his  delirious  efforts  must  be  restrained  perhaps  by 
force.  Now  no  man  in  his  senses  will  call  this  anv  real 


THE  USE  OF  ALCOHOLIC  LiaUOES. 


5 


increase  of  strength  in  the  sick  man,  who  has  been  starving 
thus  long ; but  only  a rallying  of  the  powers  of  life  under 
the  stimulus  of  disease,  which  is  always  followed  by  extreme 
languor  and  debility,  if  not  by  death.  So  it  is  with  the  in- 
dividual under  the  influence  of  ardent  spirit : he  feels  the 
powers  of  his  body  excited  from  the  stimulus  of  the  spirit ; 
yet,  as  we  think  must  be  clear  to  the  apprehension  of  any 
one,  without  any  addition  of  actual  strength. 

Again,  alcohol  is  not  only  innutritions,  but  is  poisonous. 
Taken  into  the  stomach  in  an  undiluted  and  concentrated 
state,  in  quantities  of  two  or  three  teaspoonfulls,  it  destroys 
life,  as  clearly  shown  in  Accum’s  experiments.  Combined 
with  different  proportions  of  water,  sugar,  etc.,  it  is  modi- 
fied in  its  effects.  Most  of  the  vegetable  and  mineral 
poisons  may  be  so  diluted  and  modified  as  to  be  capable 
of  application  to  the  bodies  of  men  internally,  without  pro- 
ducing immediate  fatal  consequences  ; which,  nevertheless, 
cannot  be  used  any  length  of  time,  even  thus  disarmed, 
without  producing  pernicious  effects.  So  it  is  with  alcohol . 
like  other  poisons,  it  cannot  be  used  any  length  of  time, 
even  diluted  and  modified,  without  proving  pernicious  to 
health,  and  if  persevered  in,  in  considerable  quantities,  in- 
evitably destructive  to  life.  This  last  sentiment,  however, 
we  will  consider  more  particularly  under  the 

Third  reason  for  the  disuse  of  alcohol : It  destroys 
loth  body  and  soul.  It  is  estimated  that  thirty  or  forty 
thousand  died  annually  in  the  United  States  from  the  intem- 
perate use  of  ardent  spirit  before  the  Temperance  reforma- 
tion began.  Thirty  or  forty  thousand ! a sacrifice  seldom 
matched  by  war  or  pestilence.  The  blood  which  flowed 
from  the  veins  of  our  martyred  countrymen,  in  the  cause 
of  freedom,  never  reached  this  annual  sacrifice.  And  the 
pestilential  cholera,  ruthless  as  it  is,  which  has  marked  its 
desolating  track  through  many  of  our  towns  and  cities, 
numbers  not  an  amount  of  victims  like  this  plague,  much 
as  its  virulence  has  been  enhanced  by  ardent  spirit.  The 
destructive  influence  of  immoderate  drinking  upon  the 
VOL.  VIII. 


6 


FOUR  REASONS  AGAINST 


bodily  powers  of  men,  is  painfully  apparent,  sometimes  long 
before  the  fatal  catastrophe.  The  face,  the  speech,  the 
eyes,  the  walk,  the  sleep,  the  breath,  all  proclaim  the  dry- 
ing up  of  the  springs  of  life.  And  although  abused  nature 
will  often  struggle,  and  struggle,  and  struggle,  to  maintain 
the  balance  of  her  powers,  and  restore  her  wasted  energies, 
she  is  compelled  to  yield  at  length  to  suicidal  violence. 

The  effect  of  the  habitual  use  of  ardent  spirit  upon  the 
health,  is  much  greater  than  is  generally  supposed.  An 
individual  who  is  in  the  habit  of  drinking  spirits  daily,  al- 
though he  may  not  fall  under  the  character  of  a drunkard, 
is  undermining  his  constitution  gradually,  but  certainly ; as 
a noble  building,  standing  by  the  side  of  a small,  unnoticed 
rivulet,  whose  current  steals  along  under  its  foundation, 
and  carries  away  from  its  support  sand  after  sand,  has  its 
security  certainly  though  imperceptibly  impaired,  and  finally 
falls  into  utter  ruin.  A large  proportion  of  the  inmates  of 
our  madhouses  are  the  victims  of  ardent  spirit.  Our  hos- 
pitals and  poor-houses  speak  volumes  of  the  ruin  that 
awmits  the  bodily  powers  of  those  who  indulge  in  even 
moderate  tippling.  It  exposes  the  system  to  much  greater 
ravages  when  disease  attacks  it.  The  powers  of  nature  are 
weakened,  and  less  able  to  resist  disease;  and  medicines 
will  never  act  so  promptly  and  kindly  upon  those  who  are 
accustomed  to  strong  drink  as  upon  those  who  are  not. 

But  where  is  the  soul,  the  disembodied  spirit  of  a de- 
ceased drunkard  ? “ No  drunkard  shall  inherit  the  king- 

dom of  God,”  is  the  plain  declaration  of  sacred  writ ; and 
were  there  no  such  scriptural  denunciation  of  the  wretched 
inebriate,  the  ver)^  nature  of  his  case  would  render  his  pros- 
pect dark  and  dismal.  In  the  intervals  of  his  cups,  when 
his  animal  powers  are  not  goaded  by  artificial  excitement, 
his  distressed  spirit  partakes  of  the  horrible  collapse  of  its 
polluted  tenement,  and  can  contemplate  no  motive,  however 
weighty,  nor  entertain  any  other  thought,  be  it  ever  so  in- 
teresting, than  how'  to  relieve  its  present  wretchedness. 
When,  then,  can  the  unhappy  man  find  peace  with  God 


THE  USE  OF  ALCOHOLIC  LiaUORS. 


7 


amid  tliis  tumult  of  his  unbalanced  faculties,  this  perturba- 
tion of  his  unholy  passions?  How  utterly  unfitted  to  per- 
form those  duties  which  are  requisite  to  secure  a blessed 
immortality  ? 

Our  FOURTH  REASON  foi'  the  disuse  of  alcoholic  hquors 
is,  that  amj  thing  short  of  entire  abstinence  exposes  to  all  the 
dread  consequences  just  named.  Here  is  the  grand  hope  of 
our  cause.  Total  abstinence  defies  all  danger  and  mocks 
at  consequences.  With  it,  we  are  safe ; without  it,  in  peril. 

Ho  man  was  ever  born  a drunkard ; nor  are  we  born 
with  a natural  taste  or  thirst  for  alcoholic  drinks,  any  more 
than  we  are  born  with  an  appetite  for  aloes,  assafoetida,  or 
any  other  drug  or  medicine.  And  the  child  when  first 
taught  to  take  it,  is  induced  to  do  so  only  by  sweetening  it, 
and  thus  rendering  it  palatable,  as  is  the  case  with  other 
medicines.  Neither  is  it,  at  anytime,  the  taste  or  flavor  of 
alcohol,  exclusively,  that  presents  such  charms  for  the  use 
of  it ; but  in  the  effect  upon  the  stomach  and  nerves  lie  all 
the  magic  and  witchery  of  this  destructive  agent.  In  proof 
of  this,  watch  the  trembling  victim  of  strong  drink  while  he 
pours  down  his  morning  or  mid-day  dram,  and  see  him 
retch  and  strangle  like  a sickened  child  at  a nauseous 
medicine.  Ask  him,  too,  and  he  will  confess  it  is  not  the 
taste  for  which  he  drinks.  Intemperate  drinking  is  ever 
the  result  of  what  has  been  misnamed  temperate  drinking. 
“ Taking  a little  ” when  we  are  too  cold,  or  too  hot,  or  wet, 
or  fatigued,  or  low-spirited,  or  have  a pain  in  the  stomach, 
or  to  keep  off  fevers,  or  from  politeness  to  a friend,  or  not 
to  appear  singular  in  company,  etc.,  etc.,  or  as  is  sometimes 
churlishly  said,  “ when  we  have  a mind  to.” 

And  here  I shall  step  aside  a little  from  the  main  argu- 
ment, and  attempt  to  explain  the  effects  which  temperate 
drinking  has  upon  the  animal  system ; and  how  it  leads  to 
rumous  drunkenness,  by  a law  of  our  natures,  certain 
and  invariable.  The  nervous  system,  as  I have  said,  is  that 
department  of  our  bodies  which  suffers  most  from  stimulants 
and  narcotics.  Although  the  circulation  of  the  blood  is 


8 


FOUR  REASONS  AGAINST 


increased,  and  all  the  animal  spirits  roused  by  alcoholic 
drink ; still,  the  nerves  are  the  organs  that  must  finally  bear 
the  brunt  and  evil  of  this  undue  excitement.  Thus  we  see 
in  the  man  who  has  been  ovei'excited  by  these  stimulants, 
a trembling  hand,  an  infirm  step,  and  impaired  mental  vigor. 
The  excitability  of  our  system — and  by  this  term  we  mean 
that  property  of  our  natures  which  distinguishes  all  living 
from  dead  matter — is  acted  upon  by  stimuli,  either  external 
or  internal ; and  it  is  by  various  stimuli,  applied  properly, 
and  in  due  proportion,  that  the  various  functions  of  life  are 
kept  up.  Thus  a proper  portion  of  food,  and  drink,  and 
heat,  and  exercise,  serves  to  maintain  that  balance  of  action 
among  all  the  organs,  which  secures  Jiealth  to  the  individual. 
But  if  an  agent  is  applied  to  the  system,  exerting  stimulant 
powers  exceeding  those  that  are  necessary  for  caiTying  on 
the  vital  functions  steadily,  an  excitement  ensues  which  is 
always  followed  by  a corresponding  collapse.  This  princi- 
ple is  clearly  illustrated  bj^  the  stimulus  of  alcohol.  If  a 
person  unaccustomed  to  its  use  receives  into  his  stomach  a 
given  quantity  of  distilled  spirits,  it  will  soon  produce  symp- 
toms of  univ'ersal  excitement.  The  pulse  increases  in  fre- 
quency ; the  action  of  all  the  animal  functions  is  quickened ; 
and  even  the  soul,  partaking  of  the  impulse  of  its  fleshly 
tabernacle,  is  unduly  aroused.  But  this  is  of  short  duration, 
and  a sinking,  or  collapse,  proportioned  to  the  excitement, 
soon  takes  place,  with  a derangement,  more  or  less,  of  all 
the  organs  of  the  body.  The  stimulus  repeated,  the  same 
effect  ensues.  We  must,  however,  notice  that  the  same 
quantity  of  any  unnatural  stimulus,  such  as  opium,  spirit, 
etc.,  frequently  repeated,  fails  to  produce  its  specific  effect. 
Hence,  in  order  to  secure  the  same  eflfect,  it  is  necessary  to 
increase  its  quantity.  Thus,  to  a person  indulging  in  the 
frequent  or  stated  practice  of  drinking,  before  he  is  aware, 
the  repetition  becomes  pleasant.  As  the  accustomed  hour 
returns  for  his  dram,  he  regularly  remembers  it ; again  and 
again  he  drinks ; the  desire  increases ; he  makes  himself 
believe  it  is  necessary  from  the  very  fact  that  he  desires  it; 


THE  USE  OF  ALCOHOLIC  LIQUOIIS. 


9 


the  principle,  or  law,  of  which  we  have  been  speaking,  de- 
velopes  itself ; an  increased  quantity  becomes  necessary  to 
insure  a feeling  of  gratification ; more,  and  still  more  be- 
comes necessary,  and  oftener  repeated,  until  without  it  he 
is  miserable ; his  overexcited  system  is  wretched,  soul  and 
body,  without  the  constant  strain  which  the  stimulus  aflbrds. 

Here  is  a solution  of  the  fact  that  has  astonished  thou- 
sands ; how  the  unhappy  drunkard,  with  all  the  certain 
consequences  of  his  course  staring  him  in  the  face,  and 
amid  the  entreaties  and  arguments  of  distressed  friends, 
and  the  solemn  denunciations  of  holy  writ  sounding  in  his 
ears,  and  the  sure  prospect  of  an  untimely  grave,  will  still 
press  on,  and  hold  the  destroyer  still  firmer  to  his  lips.  It 
is  because  nature  shrieks  at  every  pore,  if  I may  be  allowed 
the  expression.  Every  nerve,  every  vein,  every  fibre  pines, 
and  groans,  and  aches  for  its  accustomed  stimulus.  No 
substitute  will  do  ; no  ransom  can  purc'iucc  relief;  insatiate 
as  the  grave,  every  fibre  cries.  Give,  give ! The  dictates 
of  reason  are  drowned  in  the  clamor  of  the  senses.  Thus 
the  temperate  drinker,  hy  persisting  in  the  practice,  throws 
himself  within  the  influence  of  a law  of  his  system,  of  which 
he  can  no  more  control  the  development,  nor  resist  the 
urgency,  than  he  can  that  law  which  circulates  the  blood 
through  his  heart,  or  any  other  law  peculiar  to  animal  life. 
That  law  is  the  law  of  stimulation,  which  is  never  unduly 
aroused,  except  by  sinful  indulgences ; but  when  aroused, 
is  dreadfully  urgent.  We  will  state  a case  strikingly  exem- 
plifying the  influence  of  this  law. 

A gentleman,  an  acquaintance  and  friend  of  the  writer, 
contracted  the  habit  of  drinking  during  his  college  course. 
He  settled  in  the  practice  of  the  law  in  one  of  the  villages 
of  his  native  state.  He  soon  became  invested  with  offices 
of  honor  and  profit,  and  although  young,  gave  promise  of 
shining  brilliantly  in  the  profession  he  had  chosen.  He  was 
the  pride  of  a large  and  respectable  family,  who  witnessed 
his  growing  prospects  with  that  satisfaction  and  deliglit 
which  the.  prosperity  of  a beloved  son  and  brother  cannot 

10* 


10 


FOUR  REASONS  AGAINST 


fail  to  impart.  In  the  midst  of  these  circumstances  the 
physician  was  one  day  called  in  haste  to  see  him.  He  had 
fallen  into  a fit.  His  manly  form  lay  stretched  upon  the 
carpet,  while  his  features  were  distorted  and  purpled  from 
the  agony  of  the  convulsions.  After  some  days,  however, 
he  recovered,  without  having  sustained  any  permanent  in- 
jury. Being  in  company  with  his  physician  alone,  soon 
after,  he  said  to  him,  “ I suspect,  sir,  you  do  not  know  the 
cause  of  my  fit ; and  as  I may  have  a return  of  it,  when 
you  will  probably  be  called,  I think  it  proper  that  you 
should  be  made  acquainted  with  my  habits  of  life.”  He  then 
informed  his  physician,  that  for  a number  of  years  previous 
he  had  been  in  the  daily  use  of  ardent  spirit,  that  the  prac- 
tice had  grown  upon  him  ever  since  he  left  college,  and  that 
he  was  conscious  it  injured  him.  However,  it  was  not  known 
even  to  his  own  family  what  quantity  he  used.  His  physi- 
cian did  not  hesitate  to  inform  him  of  the  extreme  danger  to 
his  life  in  persisting  in  the  use  of  intoxicating  drinks.  He 
acknowledged  his  perfect  conviction  of  the  truth  of  all  that 
was  said,  and  resolved  to  abandon  his  wicked  course. 

Hot  many  weeks  after,  he  was  seized  with  another  fit ; 
but  owing  to  the  absence  of  the  family  physician,  he  did  not 
see  him  until  some  time  after  he  had  come  out  of  it.  The 
physician,  however,  who  attended,  informed  him  it  was  vio- 
lent. After  repeated  assurances  of  his  increasing  danger, 
and  the  remonstrances  of  friends,  who  had  now  begun  to 
learn  the  real  cause  of  his  fits,  he  renewed  his  pronuses 
and  determination  to  reform,  and  entered  upon  a course  of 
total  abstinence,  which  he  maintained  for  several  months, 
and  inspired  many  of  his  friends  with  pleasing  hopes  of  his 
entire  reform  and  the  reestablishment  of  his  health.  But, 
alas,  in  an  unguarded  moment,  he  dared  to  taste  again  the 
forbidden  cup,  and  with  this  fled  all  his  resolutions  and 
restraints.  From  that  time  he  drank  more  openly  and  freely. 
His  fits  returned  with  painful  violence ; friends  remonstrated, 
entreated,  pleaded,  but  all  in  vain.  He  thus  continued  his 
course  of  intemperance,  with  intervals  of  fits  and  sickness. 


THE  USE  OF  ALCOHOLIC  LiaUORS. 


11 


about  eight  or  ten  months,  and  at  length  died  drunk  in  his 
bed,  where  he  had  lain  for  two  or  three  weeks  in  a continual 
state  of  intoxication. 

The  writer  has  stated  this  case  in  detail,  to  show  the 
influence  of  the  law  of  stimulation,  or  what  in  popular 
language  is  termed,  “ the  appetite  for  spirituous  liquors,” 
when  once  it  is  awakened. 

Here  we  have  the  instance  of  an  individual,  of  a fine  and 
cultivated  intellect,  with  every  thing  on  earth  to  render  him 
happ}^,  that  could  be  comjirised  in  wealth,  friends,  honor, 
and  bright  prospects.  Ay,  indeed,  too,  he  professed  an 
interest  in  the  blood  of  the  Saviour,  and  had  communed 
with  Christians  at  his  table  ; surrounded  by  those  whom  he 
tenderly  loved,  the  wife  of  his  bosom,  and  the  dear  pledges 
of  her  devotion.  Yet,  in  spite  of  all  these  considerations, 
and  the  most  sensible  conviction  of  his  fatal  career,  he  con- 
tinued to  drink,  and  thus  pressed  downward  to  the  gate  of  ' 
death  and  hell. 

Now  what  was  this?  What  giant’s  arm  dragged  this 
fair  victim  to  an  untimely  grave  ? Was  it  for  the  want  of 
motives  and  obligations  to  pursue  an  opposite  course  ? No. 
Was  it  for  tbe  want  of  intellect  and  talents  to  appreciate 
those  obligations?  No.  Was  it  trouble,  arising  from  dis- 
appointed hopes  and  blasted  prospects  ? Certainly,  by  those 
who  knew  him  best,  he  was  accounted  a man  who  might 
have  been  happy.  What  was  it,  then,  that  urged  this  indi- 
vidual, with  his  eyes  open  upon  the  consequences,  and  in 
the  face  of  every  thing  most  dear,  thus  to  sacrifice  his  all 
upon  the  altar  of  intemperance?  It  was  that  law  of  which 
we  have  spoken,  enkindled  into  action  by  his  tippling,  and 
which  once  developed,  he  could  no  -more  control,  ivhile  per- 
sisting in  his  pernicious  practice  of  drinking,  than  he  could 
have  hurled  the  Andes  from  their  base,  or  have  plucked  the 
moon  from  her  orbit. 

We  say,  then,  that  all  persons  who  drink  ardent  spirit 
habitually,  bring  themselves  inevitably  under  the  influence 
of  a law  peculiar  to  their  natures,  which  leads  on  to  ruin. 


12 


FOUR  REASONS,  ETC. 


Instances  may  indeed  have  occurred,  in  which  individuals 
have  used  ardent  spirit  daily  for  a long  course  of  years,  and 
yet  died  without  becoming  drunkards ; but  it  only  proves 
that  these  have  been  constitutions  that  could  resist  the 
speedy  development  of  the  law  in  question.  Where  one  indi- 
vidual is  found  with  a constitution  -sugorous  enough  to  resist 
the  development  of  this  law  through  a life  of  habitual  drink- 
ing, thousands  go  down  to  a drimkard’s  grave,  and  a drunk- 
ard’s retribution,  from  only  a few  years’  indulgence. 

We  have  thus  briefly  shown  the  immense  cost  of  the  use 
of  alcoholic  liquors.  We  have  shown  that  they  contain  no 
propierty  that  can  impart  substantial  strength  or  nourish- 
ment to  the  body ; and  that  they  are  actually  a poison.  We 
have  shown  that  they  destroy  both  body  and  soul ; clouding 
the  view  of  truth,  and  resisting  the  influences  of  the  Holy 
Spirit.  “Ho  drunkard  shall  inherit  the  kingdom  of  God.” 
We  have  shown  that  the  temperate  use  of  these  liquors  tends 
inevitably  to  the  intemperate  use ; since  those  who  drink 
them  habitually,  throw  themselves  within  the  influence  of 
a law  of  their  natures,  which  leads  on  directly  to  ruin. 

In  view  of  such  considerations  and  such  facts,  who  is  so 
degraded,  so  enslaved  to  appetite,  or  the  love  of  gain,  that 
he  will  not  lend  his  aid  to  the  Temperance  Reform  ? Who 
will  indulge  in  what  he  calls  the  temperate  use,  flattering 
himself  that  he  can  control  his  appetite,  when  thousands, 
w'ho  have  boasted  of  self-control,  have  found  themselves, 
ere  they  were  aware,  within  the  coil  of  a serpent  whose 
touch  is  poison,  and  whose  sting  is  death  ? 0,  who  that 

regards  his  neighbor,  his  family,  his  own  reputation,  or  his 
own  soul,  will  in  this  day  of  light  be  found  dallying  with 
that  which  affords  at  best  only  sensual  pleasure,  and  which 
at  the  last  biteth  like  a serpent,  and  stingeth  like  an  adder  ? 


DEBATES  OF  CONSCIENCE 

WITH 

A DISTILLER,  A WHOLESALE  DEALER, 

AND 

A RETAILER. 

BY  IIBMAN  HUMPHREY,  D.  D. 

PRESIDENT  OF  AMHERST  COLLEGE. 

DIALOGUE  I. 

AT  THE  DISTILLERY. FIRST  INTERVIEW 

Distiller.  Good  morning,  Mr.  Conscience ; though  I 
know  you  to  be  one  of  the  earliest  risers,  especially  of  late, 
[ hardly  expected  to  meet  you  here  at  day-dawn. 

Conscience.  I am  none  too  early,  it  seems,  to  find  you 
at  your  vocation.  But  how  are  you  goipg  to  dispose  of  this 
great  black  building  ? 

Distiller.  Why,  I do  not  understand  you. 

Conscience.  What  are  you  doing  with  these  boiling 
craters,  and  that  hideous  worm  there  ? 

Distiller.  Pray  explain  yourself. 

Conscience.  Whose  grain  is  that  ? and  what  is  bread 
called  in  the  Bible  ? 

Distiller.  More  enigmatical  still. 

Conscience.  To  what  market  do  you  mean  to  send  that 
long  row  of  casks  ? and  how  many  of  them  will  it  take,  upon 
an  average,  to  dig  a drunkard’s  grave  ? 

Distiller.  Ah,  I understand  you  now.  I was  hoping 
that  I had  quieted  you  on  that  score.  But  I perceive  you 
have  come  upon  the  old  errand.  You  intend  to  read  me 
another  lecture  upon  the  sixth  commandment.  But  whal 
would  you  have  me  do  ? 


2 


DEBATES  OE  CONSCIENCE. 


Conscience.  Put  out  these  fires. 

Distiller.  Nay,  but  hear  me.  I entered  into  this  bu- 
siness with  your  approbation.  The  neighbors  all  encour- 
aged me.  My  brethren  in  the  church  said  it  would  open  a 
fine  market  for  their  rye,  and  corn,  and  cider ; and  even  my 
minister,  haiipening  to  come  along  when  we  were  raising, 
took  a little  with  us  under  the  shade,  and  said  he  loved  to 
see  his  people  industrious  and  enterprising. 

Conscience.  “ The  times  of  this  ignorance  God  winked 
at — but  now  commandeth  all  men  everywhere  to  repent.” 
In  one  part  of  your  defence,  at  least,  you  are  incorrect.  It 
was  not  ni)^  voice,  but  my  silence,  if  any  thing,  which  gave 
consent ; and  I have  always  suspected  there  ivas  some  foul 
play  in  the  matter,  and  that  I was  kept  quiet  for  the  time 
by  certain  deleterious  opiates.  Indeed,  I distinctly  recol- 
lect the  morning  bitters  and, evening  todd}^,  which  you  was 
accustomed  to  give  me ; and  though  I thought  but  little  of 
it  then,  I now  see  that  it  deadened  all  my  sensibilities.  This, 
I am  aware,  is  no  excuse.  I ought  to  have  resisted — I 
ought  to  have  refused,  and  to  have  paralyzed  the  hand 
which  put  the  cup  to  ray  lips.  And  when  you  struck  the 
first  stroke  on  this  ground,  I ought  to  have  warned  you  OS' 
Avith  the  voice  of  seven  thunders.  That  I did  not  then 
speak  out,  and  do  my  duty,  will  cause  me  extreme  regret 
and  self-reproach  to  the  latest  hour  of  my  life. 

Distiller.  But  what,  my  dear  Conscience,- has  made 
you  all  at  once  so  much  Aviser,  not  only  than  your  former 
self,  but  than  hundreds  of  enlightened  men  in  every  com- 
munity, Avhose  piety  Avas  neA^er  doubted  ? I myself  know, 
and  liaA'e  heard  of  not  a few  good  Christians,  including  even 
deacons  and  elders,  Avho  still  continue  to  manufacture  ardent 
spirit,  and  think,  or  seem  to  tliink  it  right. 

Conscience.  And  think  it  right ! Ask  their  consciences. 
I should  hke  to  Avitness  some  of  those  inteiwiews  which  take 
place  in  the  night,  and  AAdiich  make  Christian  distillers — 


DEBATES  OF  CONSCIENCE. 


3 


(what  a solecism !) — so  much  more  irritable  than  they  used 
to  be.  I know  one  of  the  brotherhood,  at  least,  whose  con- 
science has  been  goading  him  these  five  years,  and  yet  he 
perseveres. 

Distiller.  But  if  I stop,  what  will  the  people  do  ? Half 
the  farmers  in  town  depend  upon  their  rye  and  cider  to  pay 
their  taxes,  and  even  to  support  the  Gospel. 

Conscience.  So,  then,  you  are  pouring  out  these  streams 
of  liquid  death  over  the  land,  and  burning  up  your  own 
neighbors,  to  enable  them  to  pay  their  taxes  and  support 
religion  ! Why  don’t  you  set  up  a coffin  factory,  to  create  a 
brisker  demand  for  lumber,  and  so  help  the  farmers  to  pay 
their  taxes ; and  then  spread  the  smallpox  among  the  peo- 
ple, that  they  may  die  the  faster,  and  thus  increase  your  busi- 
ness, and  give  you  a fair  profit  ? It  will  not  do.  I tell  you, 
that  I can  give  you  no  peace  till  you  put  out  these  fires  and 
destroy  that  worm. 

Distiller.  How  can  I ? Here  is  all  my  living,  espe- 
cially since,  as  you  know,  my  eldest  son  fell  into  bad  babits, 
in  spite  of  all  the  good  advice  I daily  gave  him,  and  squan- 
dered what  might  have  afforded  me  a comfortable  inde- 
pendence. 

Conscience.  Suppose  you  was  now  in  Brazil,  and  the 
owner  of  a large  establishment  to  fit  out  slave-traders  with 
handcuffs  for  the  coast  of  Africa,  and  could  not  change 
your  business  without  considerable  pecuniary  sacrifice ; 
would  you  make  the  sacrifice,  or  would  you  keep  your 
fires  and  hammers  still  going  ? 

Distiller.  Why  do  you  ask  such  puzzling  questions  ? 
You  know  I don’t  like  them  at  all,  especially  when  my 
mind  is  occupied  with  other  subjects.  Leave  me,  at  least 
till  I can  compose  myself,  I beseech  you. 

Conscience.  Nay,  but  hear  me  through.  Is  it  right 
for  you  to  go  on  manufacturing  fevers,  dropsy,  consump- 
tion, delirium  tremens,  and  a host  of  other  frightful  diseases. 


4 


DEBATES  OF  C0NSC1E*\’C£. 


because  your  property  happens  to  be  vested  in  a distillery  ? 
Is  it  consistent  witb  the  great  law  of  love  by  which  you 
profess  to  be  governed  ? Will  it  bear  examination  in  a 
dying  hour  ? Shall  I bid  you  look  back  upon  it  from  the 
brink  of  eternity,  that  you  may  from  such  recollections 
gather  holy  courage  for  your  pending  conflict  with  the  king 
of  terrors  ? Will  you  bequeath  this  magazine  of  wrath  and 
perdition  to  your  only  son  not  already  ruined,  and  go  out 
of  the  world  rejoicing  that  you  can  leave  the  whole  concern 
in  the  hands  of  one  who  is  so  trustworthy  and  so  dear  ? 

[Here  the  Distiller  leaves  abrupt]}^  without  answering 
a word.] 

SECOND  INTERVIEW. 

Distiller.  (Seeing  Conscience  approach,  and  beginning 
to  tremble.)  AVhat,  so  soon  and  so  early  at  your  post 
again  ? I did  hope  for  a short  respite. 

Conscience.  0,  I am  distressed — I cannot  hold  my 
peace.  I am  pained  at  my  very  heart. 

Distiller.  Do  be  composed,  I beseech  you,  and  hear 
what  I have  to  say.  Since  our  last  interview  I have  re- 
solved to  sell  out,  and  I expect  the  purchaser  on  in  a very 
few  days. 

Conscience.  What  will  he  do  with  the  establishment 
when  he  gets  it  ? 

Distiller.  You  must  ask  him,  and  not  me.  But  what- 
ever he  may  do  with  it,  I shall  be  clear. 

Conscience.  I wish  I could  be  sure  of  that;  but  let  us 
see.  Though  you  will  not  make  poison  by  the  hundred 
barrels  any  longer  yourself,  j’ou  will  sell  this  laboratory  of 
death  to  another  man,  for  the  same  horrid  purpose.  You 
will  not,  with  your  own  hands,  go  on  forging  daggers  for 
maniacs  to  use  upon  themselves  and  their  friends,  proHded 
you  can  get  some  one  to  take  your  business  at  a fair  price. 
You  will  no  longer  drag  the  car  of  Juggernaut  over  the 


DEBATES  OF  COASCIEXCE. 


5 


bodies  of  prostrate  devotees,  if  you  can  sell  out  the  privilege 
to  good  advantage  ! 

Distiller.  Was  ever  any  man’s  conscience  so  captious 
before  ? You  seem  determined  not  to  be  satisfied  with  any 
thing.  But  beware ; by  pushing  matters  in  this  way  you  will 
produce  a violent  “ reaction.”  Even  professors  of  religion 
will  not  bear  it.  For  myself,  I wish  to  treat  you  with  all  pos- 
sible respect ; but  forbeai-ance  itself  must  have  its  limits. 

Conscience.  Possibly  you  may  be  able  to  hold  me  in 
check  a little  longer ; but  I am  all  the  while  gathering 
strength  for  an  onset  which  you  cannot  withstand ; and  if 
you  cannot  bear  these  kind  remonstrances  now,  how  will 
you  grapple  ivith  “ the  worm  that  never  dies  ?” 

Distiller.  Enough,  enough.  I will  obey  your  voice. 
But  why  so  pale  and  deathlike  ? 

Conscience.  0,  I am  sick,  I am  almost  suftbcated. 
These  tartarean  fumes,  these  dreadful  forebodings,  these 
heart-rending  sights,  and  above  all,  my  horrid  dreams,  I 
cannot  endure  them.  There  comes  our  nearest  neighbor, 
stealing  across  the  lots,  with  his  jug  and  half  bushel  of  rye. 
What  is  his  errand,  and  where  is  his  hungry,  shivering 
family  ? And  see  there  too,  that  tattered,  half-starved  boy, 
just  entering  the  yard  with  a bottle — who  sent  him  here  at 
this  early  hour  ? All  these  barrels — where  are  the  wretch- 
ed beings  who  are  to  consume  this  liquid  fire,  and  to  be 
consumed  by  it  ? 

Distiller.  Spare  me,  spare  me,  I beseech  you.  By 
going  on  at  this  rate  a little  longer  you  will  make  me  as 
nervous  as  yourself. 

Conscience.  But  I cannot  close  this  interview  till  I 
have  related  one  of  the  dreams  to  which  I just  alluded.  It 
was  only  last  night  that  I suffered  in  this  way,  more  than 
tongue  can  tell.  The  whole  terrific  vision  is  written  in  let- 
ters of  fire  upon  the  tablet  of  my  memory  ; and  I feel  it  all 
the  while  burning  deeper  and  deeper. 

VOL.  IX. 


6 


DEBATES  OF  CONSCIEN'CE. 


'I  thought  I stood  by  a great  river  of  melted  lava,  and 
while  I was  w'ondering  from  what  mountain  or  vast  abyss 
it  came,  suddenly  the  field  of  my  vision  was  extended  to 
the  distance  of  several  hundred  miles,  and  I perceived  that, 
instead  of  springing  from  a single  source,  this  rolling  tor- 
rent of  fire  was  fed  by  numerous  tributary  streams,  and 
these  again  by  smaller,  rivulets.  And  what  do  you  think  I 
heard  and  beheld,  as  I stood  petrified  with  astonishment 
and  horror  ? There  were  hundreds  of  poor  WTCtches  strug- 
gling and  just  sinking  in  the  merciless  flood.  As  I con- 
templated the  scene  still  more  attentively,  the  confused 
noise  of  boisterous  and  profane  merriment,  mingled  with 
loud  shrieks  of  despair,  saluted  my  ears.  The  hair  of  my 
head  stood  up — and  looking  this  way  and  that  way,  I be- 
held crowds  of  men,  women,  and  children,  thronging  down 
to  the  very  margin  of  the  river — some  eagerly  bowing  down 
to  slake  their  thirst  with  the  consuming  liquid,  and  others 
convulsively  striving  to  hold  them  back.  Some  I saw  act- 
ually pushing  their  neighbors  headlong  from  the  treacher- 
ous bank,  and  others  encouraging  them  to  plunge  in,  by 
holding  up  the  fiery  temptation  to  their  view.  To  insxire  a 
sufficient  depth  of  the  river,  so  that  destruction  might  he 
made  doubly  sure,  I saw  a great  number  of  men,  and  some 
whom  I knew  to  be  members  of  the  church,  laboriously 
turning  their  respective  contributions  of  the  glowing  and 
hissing  liquid  into  the  main  channel.  This  was  more  than 
I could  bear.  I w'as  in  perfect  torture.  But  when  I ex- 
postulated with  those  who  were  nearest  to  the  place  where 
I stood,  they  coolly  answered.  This  is  the  way  in  which  we 
get  our  living  ! 

But  what  shocked  me  more  than  all  the  rest,  and  cur- 
dled every  drop  of  blood  in  my  veins,  was  the  sight  -which 
I had  of  this  very  distillery  pouring  out  its  tributary  stream 
of  fire  ! And  0,  it  distracts,  it  maddens  me  to  think  of  it. 
There  you  yourself  stood  feeding  the  torrent  which  had  al- 


DEBATES  OF  CONSCIENCE. 


7 


ready  swallowed  up  some  of  your  own  family,  and  threat- 
ened every  moment  to  sweep  you  away  ! This  last  circum- 
stance brought  me  from  the  bed,  by  one  convulsive  bound, 
into  the  middle  of  the  room;  and  I awoke  in  an  agony 
which  I verily  believe  I could  not  have  sustained  for  another 
moment. 

Distiller.  I will  feed  the  torrent  no  longer.  The  fires 
of  my  distillery  shall  be  put  out.  From  this  day,  from  this 
hour,  I renounce  the  manufacture  of  ardent  spirit  for  ever. 


DIALOGUE  II. 

wholesale  dealer’s  counting-room. 

Conscience.  (Looking  over)  the  leger  with  a serious 
air.)  What  is  that  last  invoice  from  the  West  Indies? 

Rum-Dealer.  Only  a few  casks  of  fourth  proof,  for  par- 
ticular customers. 

Conscience.  And  that  domestic  poison,  via  Hew  Or- 
leans ; and  on  the  next  page,  that  large  consignment,  via 
Erie  Canal  ? 

Dealer.  0,  nothing  but  two  small  lots  of  prime  whis- 
key, such  as  we  have  been  selling  these  twenty  years.  But 
why  these  chiding  inquiries  ? They  disquiet  me  exceeding- 
ly. And  to  tell  you  the  plain  truth,  I am  more  than  half 
offended  at  this  morbid  inquisitiveness. 

Conscience.  Ah,  I am  afraid,  as  I have  often  told  you, 
that  this  is  a bad  business ; and  the  more  I think  of  it,  the 
more  it  troubles  me. 

Dealer.  Why  so?  You  are  always  preaching  up  in- 
dustry as  a Christian  virtue,  and  my  word  for  it,  were  I to 
neglect  my  business,  and  saunter  about  the  hotels  and 
steamboat  wharves,  as  some  do,  you  would  fall  into  con- 
vulsions, as  if  I had  committed  the  unpardonable  sin. 

Conscience.  Such  pettish  quibbling  is  utterly  unworthy 


8 


DEBATES  OF  CONSCIENCE. 


of  your  good  sense  and  ordinary  candor.  You  know,  as 
well  as  I do,  the  great  difference  between  industry  in  some 
safe  and  honest  calling,  and  driving  a business  which  car- 
ries poverty  and  ruin  to  thousands  of  families. 

Dealer.  Honest  industry ! This  is  more  cruel  still. 
You  have  known  me  too  long  to  throw  out  such  insinua- 
tions ; and  besides,  it  is  notorious,  that  some  of  the  first 
merchants  in  our  city  are  engaged,  far  more  extensively,  in 
the  same  traffic. 

Conscience.  Be  it  so.  “ To  their  own  Master  they 
stand  or  fall.”  But  if  fair  dealing  consists  in  “ doing  as  we 
would  be  done  by,”  how  can  a man  of  your  established 
mercantile  and  Christian  reputation  sustain  himself,  if  he 
continues  to  deal  in  an  article  which  he  knows  to  be  more 
destructive  than  all  the  plagues  of  Egypt  ? 

Dealer.  Do  you  intend,  then,  to  make  me  answerable 
for  all  the  mischief  that  is  done  by  ardent  spirit,  in  the 
whole  state  and  nation  ? What  I sell  is  a mere  drop  of  the 
bucket,  compared  with  the  consumption  of  a single  county. 
Where  is  the  proof  that  the  little  which  my  respectable  cus- 
tomers carry  into  the  countiy,  with  their  other  groceries, 
ever  does  any  harm  ? How  do  you  know  that  it  helps  to 
make  such  a frightful  host  of  drunkards  and  vagabonds? 
And  if  it  did,  whose  fault  would  it  be?  I never  gave  nor 
sold  a glass  of  whiskey  to  a tippler  in  my  life.  Let  those 
who  will  drink  to  excess,  and  make  brutes  of  themselves, 
ans^ver  for  it. 

Conscience.  Yes,  certainly  they  must  answer  for  it; 
but  will  that  excuse  those  who  furnish  the  poison  ? Did 
you  never  hear  of  abettors  and  accessaries,  as  well  as  prin- 
cipals in  crime  ? When  Judas,  in  all  the  agony  of  remorse 
and  despair,  threw  down  the  thirty  pieces  of  silver  before 
the  chief  priests  and  elders,  exclaiming,  I have  sinned,  in 
that  I have  betrayed  the  innocent  blood — they  coolly  an- 
swered, What  is  that  to  ns?  See  thou  to  that.  And  was 


DEBATES  OF  CONSCIENCE. 


9 


it  therefore  nothing  to  them  ? Had  they  no  hand  in  that 
cruel  tragedy  ? Was  it  nothing  to  Pilate — nothing  to  Her- 
od— nothing  to  the  multitude  who  were  consenting  to  the 
crucifixion  of  the  Son  of  God — because  they  did  not  drive 
the  nails  and  thrust  the  spear  ? 

0,  when  I think  of  what  you  are  doing  to  destroy  the 
bodies  and  souls  of  men,  I cannot  rest.  It  terrifies  me  at 
all  hours  of  the  night.  Often  and  often,  when  I am  just 
losing  myself  in  sleep,  I am  startled  by  the  most  frightful 
groans  and  unearthly  imprecations,  coming  out  of  these 
hogsheads.  And  then,  those  long  processions  of  rough- 
made  coffins  and  beggared  families,  which  I dream  of,  from 
nightfall  till  daybreak,  they  keep  me  all  the  Avhile  in  a 
cold  sweat,  and  I can  no  longer  endure  them. 

Dealer.  Neither  can  I.  Something  must  be  done.  You 
have  been  out  of  your  head  more  than  half  the  time  for  this 
six  months.  I have  tried  all  the  ordinary  remedies  upon 
you  without  the  least  effect.  Indeed,  every  new  remedy 
seems  only  to  aggravate  the  disease.  0,  what  would  not  I 
give  for  the  discovery  of  some  anodyne  which  would  lay 
these  horrible  phantasms.  The  case  would  be  infinitely 
less  trying,  if  I could  sometimes  persuade  you,  for  a night 
or  two,  to  let  me  occupy  a different  apartment  from  youi'- 
self ; for  when  your  spasms  come  on,  one  might  as  well  try 
to  sleep  with  embers  in  his  bosom,  as  where  you  are. 

Conscience.  Would  it  mend  the  matter  at  all,  if,  in- 
stead of  sometimes  dreaming,  I were  to  be  always  wide 
awake  ? 

Dealer.  Ah,  there’s  the  grand  difficulty.  For  I find 
that  when  you  do  wake  up,  you  are  more  troublesome  than 
ever.  Then  you  are  always  harping  upon  my  being  a pro- 
fessor of  religion,  and  bringing  up  some  text  of  Scripture, 
which  might  as  well  be  let  alone,  and  which  you  would  not 
ring  in  my  ears,  if  you  had  any  regard  to  my  peace,  or  even 
your  own.  More  than  fifty  times,  within  a month,  have 
VOL.  IX. 


10 


DEBATES  OF  CONSCIENCE. 


you  quoted,  “ By  their  fruits  ye  shall  know  them."  In 
fact,  so  uncharitable  have  you  grown  of  late,  that  from  the 
drift  of  some  of  your  admonitions,  a stranger  would  think 
me  but  little,  if  any,  better  than  a murderer.  And  all 
because  some  vagabond  or  other  may  possibly  happen  to 
shorten  his  days  by  drinking  a little  of  the  identical  spirit 
which  passes  through  my  hands. 

Conscience.  You  do  me  bare  justice  when  you  say  that 
I have  often  reproved  you,  and  more  earnestly  of  late  than 
1 formerly  did.  But  my  remonstrances  have  always  been 
between  you  and  me  alone.  If  I have  charged  you  with 
the  guilt  of  hurrying  men  to  the  grave  and  to  hell,  by  this 
vile  traffic,  it  has  not  been  upon  the  house-top.  I cannot, 
it  is  true,  help  knowing  how  it  grieves  your  brethren,  grati- 
fies the  enemies  of  religion,  and  excites  the  scorn  of  drunk- 
ards themselves,  to  see  your  wharf  covered  rvith  the  fiery 
element ; but  I speak  only  in  your  own  ear.  To  yourself  I 
have  wished  to  prove  a faithful  monitor,  though  I have  sad 
misgivings,  at  times,  ev'en  with  regard  to  that.  You  will 
bear  me  witness,  however,  that  I have  sometimes  trembled 
exceedingly,  for  fear  that  I should  be  compelled,  at  last,  to 
carry  the  matter  up  by  indictment  to  the  tribunal  of  Eter- 
nal Justice. 

To  avoid  this  dreadful  necessity,  let  me  once  more  rea- 
son the  case  with  you  in  few  words.  You  know  perfectly 
well,  that  ardent  spirit  kills  its  tens  of  thousands  in  the 
United  States  eveiy  year ; and  there  is  no  more  room  to 
doubt  that  manj'-  of  these  lives  are  destroyed  by  the  verj'^ 
liquor  which  you  sell,  than  if  you  saw  them  staggering  un- 
der it  into  the  drunkard’s  grave.  How  then  can  you  pos- 
sibly throw  off  bloodguiltiness,  with  the  light  which  you 
now  enjoy  ? In  faithfulness  to  your  soul,  and  to  Him  whose 
vicegerent  I am,  I cannot  say  less  than  this,  especially  if 
you  persist  any  longer  in  the  horrible  traffic  ? 

Dealer.  Pardon  me,  my  dear  Conscience,  if,  under  the 


DEBATES  OF  CONSCIENCE. 


11 


excitement  of  the  moment,  I complained  of  your  honest  and 
continued  importunity.  Be  assured,  there  is  no  friend  in 
the  world,  with  whom  I am  so  desirous  of  maintaining  a 
good  understanding  as  with  yourself.  And  for  your  relief 
and  satisfaction,  I now  give  you  my  solemn  pledge,  that  I 
will  close  up  this  branch  of  my  business  as  soon  as  possi- 
ble. Indeed,  I have  commenced  the  process  already.  My 
last  consignments  are  less,  bj^  more  than  one  half,  than 
were  those  of  the  preceding  year ; and  I intend  that,  when 
another  year  comes  about,  my  books  shall  speak  still  more 
decidedly  in  my  favor. 

Conscience.  These  resolutions  would  be  perfectly  sat- 
isfactory, if  they  were  in  the  present  tense.  But  if  it  was 
wrong  to  sell  five  hundred  casks  last  year,  how  can  it  be 
right  to  sell  two  hundred  this  year,  and  one  hundred  next  ? 
If  it  is  criminal  to  poison  forty  men  at  one  time,  how  can  it 
be  innocent  to  poison  twenty  at  another  ? If  you  may  not 
throw  a hundred  firebrands  into  the  city,  how  will  you 
prove  that  you  may  throw  one  ? 

Dealer.  Very  true,  very  true — but  let  us  wave  this 
point  for  the  present.  It  affects  me  very  strangely. 

Conscience.  How  long,  then,  will  it  take  to  dry  up 
this  fountain  of  death  ? 

Dealer.  Don’t  call  it  so,  I beseech  you ; but  I intend 
to  be  entirely  out  of  the  business  in  two  or  three  years,  at 
farthest. 

Conscience.  Two  or  three  years!  Can  you,  then, 
after  all  that  has  passed  between  us,  persist  two  or  three 
years  longer  in  a contraband  traffic  ? I verily  thought,  that 
when  we  had  that  long  conference  two  or  three  months  ago, 
you  resolved  to  close  the  concern  at  once ; and  that,  when 
we  parted,  I had  as  good  as  your  promise,  that  you  would. 
Surely,  you  cannot  so  soon  have  forgotten  it. 

Dealer.  No,  I remember  that  interview  but  too  well ; 
for  I was  never  so  unhappy  in  my  life.  I did  almost  re- 


12 


DEBATES  OF  COXSCIEXCE. 


solve,  and  more  than  half  promise,  as  you  say.  But  after 
I had  time  to  get  a little  composed,  I thought  you  had 
pushed  matters  rather  too-  far ; and  that  I could  convince 
you  of  it,  at  a pr(^er  time.  I see,  however,  that  the  at- 
tempt would  he  fruitless.  But  as  I am  anxious  for  a com- 
promise, let  me  ask  whether,  if  I give  away  all  the  profits 
of  this  branch  of  my  business  to  the  Bible  Society,  and  other 
religious  institutions,  till  I can  close  it  up,  you  will  not  be 
satisfied  ? 

Conscience.  Let  me  see.  Five  hundred  dollars,  or  one 
hundred  dollars,  earned  to  promote  the  cause  of  religion  by 
selling  poison ! By  killing  husbands,  and  fathers,  and  broth- 
ers, and  torturing  poor  women  and  children ! It  smells  of 
blood — and  can  God  possibly  accept  of  such  an  offering? 

Dealer.  So  then,  it  seems,  I must  stop  the  sale  at  once, 
or  entirely  forfeit  what  little  charity  you  have  left. 

Conscience.  You  must.  Delay  is  death — death  to  the 
consumer  at  least ; and  how  can  you  flatter  yourself  that  it 
will  not  prove  your  own  eternal  death  ? My  convictions 
are  decisive,  and  be  assured,  I deal  thus  plainly  because  I 
love  you,  and  cannot  bear  to  become  your  everlasting  tor- 
mentor. 


DIALOGUE  III. 

AT  THE  retailer’s  STAND. 

Conscience.  Do  you  know  that  little  half-starved,  bare- 
footed child,  that  j'ou  just  sent  home  with  two  quarts  of 
rank  poison? 

(Retailer  hums  a tune  to  himself,  and  affects  not  to  hear 
the  question.) 

Conscience.  I see  by  the  paper  of  this  morning,  that 

the  furniture  of  Mr.  M is  to  be  sold  under  the  hammer 

to-morrow.  Have  I not  often  seen  him  in  your  taproom  ? 

Retailer.  I am  extremely  busy  just  now,  in  bringing 
up  our  ledger. 


DEBATES  OF  CONSCIENCE. 


13 


Conscience.  Have  you  heard  how  N abused  his 

family,  and  turned  them  all  into  the  street  the  other  night, 
after  being  supplied  by  you  with  whiskey  ? 

Retailer.  He  is  a brute,  and  ought  to  be  confined  in  a 
dungeon  six  months  at  least,  upon  bread  and  water. 

Conscience.  Was  not  S , who  hung  himself  lately, 

one  of  your  steady  customers  ? and  where  do  you  think  his 
soul  is  now  fixed  for  eternity?  You  sold  him  rum  that 
evening,  not  ten  minutes  before  you  went  to  the  prayer- 
meeting, and  had  his  money  in  your  pocket — for  you  would 
not  trust  him — when  you  led  in  the  exercises.  I heard  you 
ask  him  once,  why  he  did  not  attend  meeting,  and  send  his 
children  to  the  Sabbath-school ; and  I shall  never  forget  his 
answer.  “ Come,  you  talk  like  a minister;  but,  after  all, 
Ave  are  about  of  one  mind — at  least  in  some  things.  Let 
me  have  my  jug  and  be  going.” 

Retailer.  I know  he  was  an  impudent,  hardened 
wretch ; and  though  his  death  was  extremely  shocking,  I 
am  glad  to  be  rid  of  him. 

Conscience.  Are  you  ready  to  meet  him  at  the  bar  of 
God,  and  to  say  to  the  Judge,  “ He  Avas  my  neighbor — I saAV 
him  going  down  the  broad  Avay,  and  I did  every  thing  that 
a Christian  could  do  to  save  him?” 

Retailer.  (Aside.  0 that  I could  stifle  the  upbraid- 
ings  of  this  cruel  monitor.)  You  keep  me  in  constant  tor- 
ment. This  everlasting  cant  about  rank  poison,  and  liquid 
fire,  and  blood,  and  murder,  is  too  much  for  even  a Chris- 
tian to  put  up  Avith.  Why,  if  any  body  but  Conscience 
Avere  to  make  such  insinuations  and  charges,  he  would 
be  indictable  as  a foul  slanderer,  before  a court  of  jus- 
tice. 

Conscience.  Is  it  slander,  or  is  it  because  I tell  you  the 
truth,  that  your  temper  is  so  deeply  ruffled  under  my  re- 
monstrances ? Suppose  I were  to  hold  my  peace,  Avhile 
your  hands  are  becoming  more  and  more  deeply  crimsoned 

Temp.  Vol.  ■]  ^ 


14 


DEBATES  OF  CONSCIENCE. 


with  this  bloody  trafiSc.  AYliat  would  you  say  to  me,  when 
you  come  to  meet  that  poor  boy  who  just  went  out,  and 
Ids  drunken  father,  and  broken-hearted  mother,  at  the  bar 
of  God  ? Would  you  thank  your  conscience  for  having  let 
you  alone  while  there  was  space  left  for  repentance  ? 

Retailer.  Ah,  had  honest  trader  ever  mch  a conscience 
to  deal  with  before  ? Always  just  so  uncompromising — 
always  talking  about  the  “golden  rule” — always  insisting 
upon  a moral  standard  which  nobody  can  live  up  to — al- 
ways scenting  poverty,  murder,  and  suicide,  in  every  glass 
of  whiskey,  though  it  were  a mile  off.  The  truth  is,  you 
are  not  fit  to  live  in  this  world  at  all.  Acting  in  conformity 
with  your  more  than  puritanical  rules,  would  starve  any 
man  and  his  family  to  death. 

Conscience.  Well,  here  comes  another  customer — see 
the  carbuncles  ! Will  you  fill  his  bottle  with  wrath,  to  be 
poured  out  udthout  mixture,  by  and  by,  upon  your  own 
head  ? Do  you  not  know  tliat  his  pious  wife  is  extremely 
ill,  and  suffering  for  want  of  eveiy  comfort,  in  their  misera- 
ble cabin  ? 

Retailer.  No,  Mr.  E , go  home  and  take  care  of 

your  familj'.  I am  determined  to  harbor  no  moi-e  drunk- 
ards here. 

Conscience.  You  mean  to  make  a distinction  then,  do 
you,  between  harboring  those  who  are  already  ruined,  and 
helping  to  destroy  such  as  are  now  respectable  membei’s 
of  society.  You  will  not  hereafter  tolerate  a single  drunk- 
ard on  your  premises  ; but — 

Retailer.  Ah,  I see  what  3'ou  are  aiming  at;  and  really, 
it  is  too  much  for  an_v  honest  man,  and  still  more  for  an_y 
Christian  to  bear.  You  know  it  is  a long  time  since  I have 
pretended  to  answer  half  j'our  captious  questions.  There’s 
no  use  in  it.  It  onlv  leads  on  to  others  still  more  imperti- 
nent and  puzzling.  If  I am  the  hundredth  part  of  that 
factor  of  Satan  which  you  would  make  me,  I ought  te  be 


DEBATES  OF  CONSCIENCE. 


15 


dealt  with,  and  cast  out  of  the  church  at  once ; and  why 
don’t  my  good  brethren  see  to  it  ? 

Conscience.  That’s  a hard  question,  which  they,  per- 
haps, better  know  how  to  answer  than  I do. 

Retailer.  But  have  you  forgotten,  my  good  Conscience, 
that  in  retailing  spirit,  I am  under  the  immediate  eye  and 
sanction  of  the  laws.  Mine  is  no  contraband  traffic,  as  you 
very  well  know.  I hold  a license  from  the  rulers  and 
fathers  of  the  state,  and  have  paid  my  money  for  it  into  the 
public  treasury.  Why  do  they  continue  to  grant  and  sell 
licenses,  if  it  is  wrong  for  me  to  sell  rum  ? 

Conscience.  Another  hard  question,  which  I leave 
them  to  answer  as  best  they  can.  It  is  said,  however,  that 
public  bodies  have  no  soul,  and  if  they  have  no  soul,  it  is 
difficult  to  see  how  they  can  have  any  conscience ; and  if 
not,  what  should  hinder  them  from  selling  licenses  ? But 
suppose  the  civil  authorities  should  offer  to  sell  you  a license 
to  keep  a gambling-house,  or  a brothel,  would  you  pur- 
chase such  a license,  and  present  it  as  a salvo  to  your  con- 
science ? 

Retailer.  I tell  you  once  more,  there  is  no  use  in  try- 
ing to  answer  your  questions ; for  say  what  I will,  you  have 
the  art  of  turning  every  thing  against  me.  It  was  not  al- 
ways so,  as  you  must  very  distinctly  remember.  Formerly 
I could  retail  hogshead  after  hogshead  of  all  kinds  of  spirits, 
and  you  slept  as  quietly  as  a child.'  But  since  you  began 
to  read  these  Reports  and  Tracts  about  drinking,  and  to  at- 
tend Temperance  meetings,  I have  scarcely  had  an  hour’s 
peace  of  my  life.  I feared  that  something  like  this  would 
be  the  effect  upon  your  nervous  temperament,  when  you 
began;  and  you  may  recollect  that  I strongly  objected  to 
your  troubling  3murself  with  these  new  speculations.  It 
now  grieves  me  to  think  that  I ever  yielded  to  your  impor- 
tunity ; and  beware  that  you  do  not  push  me  to  extremities 
in  this  matter,  for  I have  about  come  to  the  resolution  that 


16 


DEBATES  OF  CONSCIENCE. 


I will  have  no  more  of  these  mischievous  pamphlets,  either 
about  my  store  or  tavern ; and  that  your  temperance  agents 
may  declaim  to  the  winds  and  walls,  if  they  please. 

Conscience.  I am  amazed  at  your  blindness  and  obsti- 
nacy. It  is  now  from  three  to  five  years  since  I began  to 
speak — though  in  a kind  of  indistinct  undertone  at  first — 
against  this  bloody  trafiSc.  I have  reasoned,  I have  remon- 
strated, and  latterly  I have  threatened  and  implored  with 
increasing  earnestness.  At  times  you  have  listened,  and 
been  convinced  that  the  course  which  you  are  pursuing, 
in  this  day  of  light,  is  infamous,  and  utterly  inconsistent 
with  a Christian  profession  ; but  before  your  conidctions  and 
resolutions  have  time  to  ripen  into  action,  the  love  of  money 
regains  its  ascendency : and  thus  have  you  gone  on  resolv- 
ing, and  relapsing,  and  re-resolving — one  hour  at  the  pre- 
paratory lecture,  and  the  next  unloading  whiskey  at  your 
door ; one  moment  mourning  over  the  prevalence  of  intem- 
perance, and  the  next  arranging  your  decanters  to  entice 
the  simple ; one  day  partaking  of  the  cup  of  the  Lord  at 
his  table,  and  the  next  offering  the  cup  of  devils  to  your 
neighbors  ; one  day  singing, 

“ All  that  I have,  and  aU  I am, 

I consecrate  to  Thee,” 

and  the  next,  for  the  sake  of  a little  gain,  sacrificing  your 
character,  and  polluting  all  you  can  induce  to  drink ! O, 
how  can  I hold  my  peace  ? _ How  can  I let  you  alone  ? If 
you  will  persist,  your  blood,  and  the  blood  of  those  whom 
you  thus  entice  and  destroy,  be  upon  your  own  head. 
Whether  you  will  hear,  or  whether  you  will  forbear,  I shall 
not  cease  to  remonstrate ; and  when  I can  do  no  more  to 
reclaim  you,  I will  sit  down  at  your  gate,  in  the  bitterness 
of  despair,  and  cry,  Murder  ! Murder  ! ! MURDER  ! ! ! 

'Retailer.  (Pale  and  trembling.)  “ Go  thy  way  for  this 
time  ; when  I have  a convenient  season,  I will  call  for  thee.” 


BARNES 


ON  THE 

TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


There  are  some  great  principles  in  regard  to  our  coun- 
try, which  are  settled,  and  which  are  never  to  be  violated, 
so  long  as  oiir  liberties  are  safe.  Among  them  are  these : 
that  every  thing  may  be  subjected  to  candid  and  most  free 
discussion  ; that  public  opinion,  enlightened  and  correct, 
may  be  turned  against  any  course  of  evil  conduct ; that 
that  public  opinion  is,  under  God,  the  prime  source  of  se- 
curity to  our  laws  and  to  our  morals  ; and  that  men  may 
be  induced,  by  an  ample  and  liberal  discussion,  and  by  the 
voice  of  conscience  and  of  reason,  to  abandon  any  course 
that  is  erroneous.  We  are  to  presume  that  we  may  ap- 
proach any  class  of  American  citizens  with  the  conviction 
that  if  they  are  convinced  that  they  are  wrong,  and  that 
their  course  of  life  leads  to  sap  the  foundation  of  morals 
and  the  liberties  of  their  country,  they  will  abandon  it. 

Our  present  proposition  is,  that  the  manufacturing 

ANn  VENDING  OF  ARDENT  SPIRITS  IS  MORALLY  WRONG,  AND 
OUGHT  TO  BE  FORTHWITH  ABANDONED. 

JF'e  mean  hy  the  proposition,  that  it  is  an  employment 
which  violates  the  rules  of  morals ' that  ought  to  regulate  a 
mans  business  and  conduct.  The  doctrine  proceeds  on  the 
supposition,  that  there  is  somewhere  a correct  standard  of 
morals — a standard  by  which  a man’s  whole  conduct  and 
course  of  life  is  to  be  tried ; and  that  this  business  cannot 
be  vindicated  by  a reference  to  that  standard.  Or,  for  ex- 

VOL.  IX. 


2 


TRAFFIC  IX  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


ample,  we  mean  that  it  is  man’s  duty  to  love  God,  and 
seek  to  honor  him,  and  that  this  business  cannot  be  vindi- 
cated by  a reference  to  that  standard.  That  it  is  man’s 
duty  to  love  his  fellow-men,  and  seek  to  promote  their  wel- 
fare, and  that  this  business  cannot  be  vindicated  by  that 
standard.  That  it  is  man’s  duty  to  render  a valuable  com- 
pensation to  his  fellow-men  in  his  transactions  with  them, 
and  that  this  business  cannot  be  vindicated  by  that  standard. 
That  every  man  is  bound  to  pursue  such  a course  of  life  as 
shall  promote  the  welfare  of  the  entire  community  in  which 
he  lives,  as  shall  not  tend  to  promote  crime,  and  pauperism, 
and  misery,  and  to  make  widows  and  orphans,  and  that  this 
business  cannot  be  vindicated  by  that  standard.  In  one 
word,  that  by  any  rules  of  life  that  have  been  set  up  to 
regulate  the  conduct  of  men,  whether  in  the  Bible,  in  the 
necessary  relations  of  the  social  compact,  in  the  reason  and 
conscience  of  Christians,  and  of  other  men,  this  business  is 
incapable  of  vindication,  and  is  to  be  regarded  as  immoral. 

In  this  proposition,  however,  it  is  important  to  be  un- 
derstood. We  mean  to  confine  it  simply  to  the  business 
where  it  is  sold  as  an  article  of  drink.  For  to  sell  it  as  a 
medicine,  with  the  same  precaution  as  other  poisons  are 
sold,  would  be  no  more  immoral  than  it  is  to  sell  arsenic. 
And  to  sell  it  for  purposes  of  manufacture,  where  it  is 
necessary  for  that  purpose,  is  no  more  immoral  than  to  sell 
any  other  article  with  that  design.  Between  selling  it  for 
these  purposes,  and  selling  it  as  an  article  of  drink,  there 
is,  as  any  one  can  see,  the  widest  possible  diflference. 

AVhen  Ave  speak  of  this  business  as  immoral,  it  is  also 
important  to  guard  the  use  of  the  Avord  immoral.  That 
word,  Avith  us,  has  come  to  have  a definite  and  Avell  under- 
stood signification.  When  we  speak  of  an  immoral  man, 
Ave  are  commonh^  understood  to  attack  The  foundations  of 
his  character ; to  designate  some  gross  vice  of  which  he  is 
guilty,  and  to  speak  of  him  as  profane,  or  licentious,  or 


TRAFFIC  m ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


3 


profligate,  or  dishonest,  or  as  unworthy  of  our  confidence 
and  respect.  Now,  we  by  no  means  intend  to  use  the  word 
in  such  a wide  sense,  when  we  say  that  this  business  is 
immoral.  We  do  not  mean  to  intimate  that  in  no  circum- 
stances a man  may  be  engaged  in  it  and  be  worthy  of  our 
confidence,  and  be  an  honest  man,  or  even  a Christian ; 
for  our  belief  is,  that  many  such  men  have  been,  and  are 
still,  unhappily  engaged  in  this  traffic.  The  time  has  been, 
when  it  was  thought  to  be  as  reputable  as  any  other  em- 
ployment. Men  may  not  see  the  injurious  tendency  of  their 
conduct.  They  may  not  be  apprized  of  its  consequences  ; 
or  they  may  be  ignorant  of  the  proper  rules  by  which  hu- 
man life  is  to  be  regulated.  Thus,  the  slave-trade  was  long- 
pursued,  and  duelling  was  deemed  right,  and  bigamy  was 
practised.  But  for  a man  to  maintain  that  all  these  would 
be  right  now,  and  to  practise  them,  would  be  a vei-y  differ- 
ent thinp-. 

O 

In  this  view  of  the  subject,  Ave  do  not  of  course  speak 
of  the  dead,  or  offer  any  reflection  on  their  conduct  or  char- 
acter. Many  men  are  miAvilling  to  regard  this  traffic  as 
wrong,  because,  by  so  doing,  they  Avould  seem  to  convey  a 
reflection  on  their  parents,  or  friends,  who  may  have  been 
engaged  in  the  same  business.  But  nothing  of  this  kind  is 
intended.  The  great  laivs  of  morals  are  indeed  unchanged  ; 
but  the  degrees  of  light  and  knowledge  which  men  possess 
may  be  very  different.  We  should  not  deem  it  right  to 
apply  OUT  laws  and  knoivledge,  in  judging  of  the  laivs  of 
Sparta,  Avhich  authorized  theft ; nor  our  laws  to  j udge  of 
the  conduct  of  the  Hindoo  in  c.xposing  his  father  on  the 
banks  of  the  Ganges  ; nor  our  present  vieivs  to  determine 
on  the  morality  of  our  fathers  an  hundred  years  ago  in  the 
slave-trade ; nor  our  views  of  the  marriage  relation  to  con- 
demn the  conduct  of  Abraham,  David,  or  Jacob.  Man’s 
conduct  is  to  be  estimated  by  the  light  Avhich  he  has.  They 
Avho  sin  without  laiv,  are  to  be  judged  Avithout  law ; and 


4 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


they  who  sin  in  the-  law,  are  to  he  judged  by  the  law. 
Your  father  mia^ht  have  been  engracred  in  the  traffic  in 
ardent  spirits.  Whether  he  was  innocent  or  not,  is  not 
now  the  question,  and  has  been  determined  by  a higher 
tribunal  than  any  on  earth.  The  question  now  is,  whether 
you  can  pui-sue  it  with  a good  conscience  ; or  whether,  with 
all  that  you  know  of  the  effects  of  the  traffic,  it  be  right  or 
wrong  for  jmu  to  pursue  it. 

With  these  necessary  explanations,  I proceed  to  prove 
that,  in  the  sense  in  which  it  has  been  explained,  the  traffic 

is  MORALLY  WRONG. 

In  proving  this  proposition,  I shall  take  for  gi-anted  two 
or  three  points  which  are  now  conceded,  and  to  establish 
which  would  lead  me  too  far  out  of  my  way.  The  first  is, 
that  this  is  not  an  employment  in  which  the  'properties  of 
the  article  are  unlcnown.  The  seller  has  as  good  an  oppor- 
tunity to  be  acquainted  with  the  qualities  of  the  article,  and. 
its  effects,  as  the  buyer.  There  is  no  concealment  of  its 
character  and  tendency  ; there  can  be  no  pretence  that 
you  were  deceived  in  regard  to  those  qualities,  and  that 
you  were  unintentionally  engaged  in  the  sale  of  an  article 
which  has  turned  out  to  be  otherwise  than  you  supposed 
it  to  be.  For,  alas,  those  properties  are  too  well  ascer- 
tained ; and  all  who  are  engaged  in  this  employment  have 
ample  opportunity  to  know  what  they  are  doing,  and  en- 
gage in  it  with  their  eyes  open. 

The  effects  of  this  traffic  are  well  known.  The  public 
mind  has  been,  with  remarkable  intensity,  directed  to  this 
subject  for  ten  years  in  this  land,  and  the  details  have  been 
laid  before  the  American  public.  It  is  believed  that  no  vice 
has  ever  been  so  faithfully  guaged,  and  the  details  so  well 
ascertained,  as  the  vice  of  intemperance  in  this  nation.  It 
is  far  better  understood  than  the  extent  of  gambling,  or 
piracy,  or  robbery,  or  the  slave-trade.  It  is  established 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  Sl’IRITS. 


5 


DOW,  beyond  the  possibility  of  debate,  that  ardent  spirits  is 
a poison,  as  certain,  as  deadly,  and  destructive,  as  any  other 
poison.  It  may  be  more  slow  in  its  effects,  but  it  is  not 
the  less  certain.  This  is  established  by  the  testimony  of 
all  physicians  and  chemists  who  have  expressed  an  opinion 
on  the  subject.  It  is  not  necessary  for  the  welfare  of  man 
as  an  ordinary  drink.  This  is  proved  by  the  like  testimony, 
by  the  example  of  many  thousands  who  abstain  from  it, 
and  by  the  fact,  that  before  its  invention,  the  Roman 
soldier,  the  Scythian,  and  the  Greek,  were  as  hardy  and 
long-lived  as  men  have  been  since.  Its  direct  tendency  is 
to  produce  disease,  powerty,  crime,  and  death.  Its  use 
tends  to  corrupt  the  morals,  to  enfeeble  the  intellect,  to 
produce  indolence,  wretchedness,  and  woe  in  the  family 
circle ; to  shorten  life,  and  to  hurry  to  a loathsome  grave  ; 
to  spread  a pall  of  grief  over  families  and  nations.  It  is 
ascertained  to  be  the  source  of  nine- tenths  of  all  the  pau- 
perism, and  nine-tenths  of  all  the  crimes  in  the  land.  It 
fills  our  streets  with  drunkards,  our  almshouses  with  loath- 
some wretches,  our  jails  with  poor  criminals,  and  supplies 
our  gibbets  with  victims.  It  costs  the  land  in  which  Ave 
live  more  than  100,000,000  of  dollars  annually,  and  ren- 
ders us  no  compensation  but  poverty,  rvant,  curses,  loath- 
someness, and  tears. 

In  any  single  year  in  this  Union,  could  the  effects  be 
gathered  into  one  single  grasp,  they  would  present  to  the 
eye  the  following  affecting  details.  An  army  of  at  least 
300,000  drunkards — not  made  up  of  old  men,  of  the  feeble, 
but  of  those  in  early  life ; of  our  youth,  of  our  men  of  tal- 
ents and  influence;  an  enlistment  from  the  bar,  the  bench, 
the  pulpit,  the  homes  of  the  rich,  and  the  firesides  of  piety  ; 
the  abodes  of  the  intelligent,  as  well  as  the  places  of  ob- 
scurity, and  the  humble  ranks — all  reeling  together  to  a 
drunkard’s  grave.  With  this  army  Napoleon  Avould  have 
overrun  Europe.  In  the  same  group  would  be  no  less 

11* 


G 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


than  75,000  criminals,  made,  such  by  the  use  of  ardent 
spirits ; criminals  of  every  grade  and  dye,  supported  at  the 
expense  of  the  sober,  and  lost  to  morality,  and  industry, 
and  hope ; the  source  of  lawsuits,  and  the  fountain  of  no 
small  part  of  the  expenses  of  courts  of  justice.  In'  the 
same  group  would  be  no  less  than  200,000  paupers,  in  a 
land  abounding  in  all  the  wealth  that  the  richest  soil  can 
give,  and  under  all  the  facilities  which  the  most  favored 
spot  under  the  whole  heaven  can  furnish  for  acquiring  a 
decent  and  an  honest  subsistence.  Paupers,  supported  at 
the  expense  of  the  sober  and  the  industrious,  and  creating 
no  small  part  of  our  taxes,  to  pay  for  their  indolence,  and 
wretchedness,  and  crimes.  And  in  the  same  group  would 
be  no  less  than  600  insane  persons,  made  such  by  intem- 
perance, in  all  the  horrid  and  revolting  forms  of  delirium — 
the  conscience  destroyed,  the  mind  obliterated,  and  hope 
and  happiness  fled  for  ever.  And  in  the  same  group  there 
would  be  no  less  than  30,000  of  our  countrymen,  who  die 
annually,  as  the  direct  effect  of  the  use  of  ardent  spirit. 
Thirty  thousand  of  our  countiymen  sinking  to  the  most 
loathsome  and  dishonored  of  all  graves,  the  grave  of  the 
drunkard.  This  is  just  a summary  of  the  obvious  and  sure 
effects  of  this  vice.  The  innumerable  woes  that  it  incident- 
ally causes  ; the  weeping  and  groans  of  the  Avidow  and  the 
fatherless  ; the  crimes  and  A'ices  which  it  tends  to  introduce 
into  abodes  that  would,  but  for  this,  be  the  abodes  of 
peace,  are  not,  and  cannot  be  taken  into  the  account. 

Now,  this  state  of  things,  if  produced  in  anj’  other  Avay, 
Avould  spread  Aveeping  and  sackcloth  over  nations  and  con- 
tinents. Any  sAveeping  pestilence  that  could  do  this,  would 
hold  a nation  in  alarm,  and  diffuse,  from  one  end  of  it  to  the 
other,  trembling  and  borror.  The  world  has  neA'er  known 
any  thing  else  like  it.  The  father  of  mischief  has  neA’er 
been  able  to  inA  cnt  any  thing  that  should  dift'use  more  wide- 
spread and  dreadful  evils. 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


7 


It  is  agreed  further,  and  well  understood,  that  this  is  the 
regular  effect  of  the  trafic,  and  manufacture,  and  use  of  this 
article.  It  is  not  casual,  incidental,  irregular.  It  is  uniform, 
certain,  deadly,  as  the  sh'occo  of  the  desert,  or  as  the  mala- 
ria of  the  Pontine  marshes.  It  is  not  a periodical  influence, 
returning  at  distant  intervals ; but  it  is  a pestilence,  breath- 
ing always — diffusing  the  poison  when  men  sleep  and  when 
they  wake,  by  day  and  by  night,  in  seed-time  and  harvest — 
attending  the  manufacture  and  sale  of  the  article  always. 
The  destroyer  seeks  his  victim  alike  in  every  hogshead,  and 
in  every  glass.  He  exempts  no  man  from  danger  that  uses 
it ; and  is  always  secure  of  prostrating  the  most  vigorous 
frame,  of  clouding  the  most  splendid  intellect,  of  benumb- 
ing the  most  delicate  moral  feelings,  of  palsying  the  most 
eloquent  tongue,  of  teaching  those  on  whose  lips  listening 
senates  hung,  to  mutter  and  babble  with  the  drunkard,  and 
of  entombing  the  most  brilliant  talents  and  hopes  of  youth, 
wherever  man  can  be  induced  to  drink.  The  establishment 
of  every  distillery,  and  every  dram-shop,  and  every  grocery 
where  it  is  sold,  secures  the  certainty  that  many  a man  will 
thereby  become  a drunkard,  and  be  a curse  to  himself  and 
to  the  world.  The  traffic  is  not  only  occasionally  and  inci- 
dentally injurious,  but  it  is  like  the  generation  before  the 
flood  in  its  effects,  evil,  and  only  evil  continually. 

Now  the  question  is,  whether  this  is  an  employment  in 
which  a moral  man  and  a Christian  man  ought  to  be  en- 
gaged. Is  it  such  a business  as  his  countrymen  ought  to 
approve  ? Is  it  such  as  his  conscience  and  sober  judgment 
approve  ? Is  it  such  as  his  God  and  Judge  will  approve  ? 

In  examining  this,  let  it  be  remembered,  that  the  reason 
why  this  occupation  is  engaged  in,  and  the  sole  reason,  is, 
to  make  money.  It  is  not  because  it  is  supposed  that  it  will 
benefit  mankind ; nor  is  it  because  the  man  supposes  that 
duty  to  his  Creator  requires  it ; nor  is  it  because  it  is  pre- 


8 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


sumed  that  it  will  promote  public  health,  or  morals,  or  hap- 
piness ; but  it  is  engaged  in  and  pursued  solely  as  a means 
of  livelihood  or  of  wealth.  And  the  question  then  is  re- 
duced to  a very  narrow  compass  : Is  it  right  for  a man,  for 
the  sake  of  gain,  to  be  engaged  in  the  sale  of  a poison — 
a poison  attended  with  destruction  to  the  property,  health, 
happiness,  peace,  and  salvation  of  his  neighbors  ; producing 
mania,  and  poverty,  and  curses,  and  death,  and  woes  innu- 
merable to  the  land,  and  to  the  church  of  God  ? A ques- 
tion this,  one  ivould  think,  that  might  be  verv  soon  answered. 
In  answering  it,  I invite  attention  to  a few  very  obvious,  but 
undeniable  positions. 

1.  It  is  an  employment  which  tends  to  counteract  the 
very  design  of  the  organization  of  society.  Society  is  organ- 
ized on  a benevolent  principle.  The  structure  of  that  or- 
ganization is  one  of  the  best  adapted  instances  of  design, 
and  of  benevolence,  anywhere  to  be  found.  It  is  on  this 
principle  that  a lawful  employment — an  employment  fitted 
to  produce  subsistence  for  a man  and  his  family,  will  not 
interfere  with  the  rights  and  happiness  of  others.  It  may 
be  pursued  without  violating  any  of  their  rights,  or  infring- 
ing on  their  happiness  in  any  way.  Nay,  it  may  not  only 
not  interfere  with  their  rights  and  happiness,  but  it  will  tend 
to  promote  directly  their  welfare,  by  promoting  the  happi- 
ness of  the  whole.  Or,  for  e.vample,  the  employment  of  the 
farmer  may  be  pursued,  not  only  without  interfering  with 
the  rights  or  privileges  of  the  mechanic,  the  physician,  or 
the  merchant,  but  it  will  directly  contribute  to  their  wel- 
fare, and  is  indispensable  to  it.  The  employment  of  the 
physician  not  only  contributes  to  the  support  of  himself  and 
family,  but  to  the  welfare  of  the  whole  community.  It  not 
only  does  not  interfere  with  the  rights  and  happiness  of  the 
farmer  and  the  mechanic,  but  it  tends  directly  to  their  ad- 
vantage. The  employment  of  the  merchant  in  lawful  traflic, 
not  only  contributes  to  his  support,  but  is  directly  beneficial 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


9 


to  the  whole  agricultural  part  of  the  community  ; for,  as  has 
been  well  said,  “the  merchant  is  the  friend  of  mankind.” 
He  injures  no  man,  at  the  same  time  that  he  benefits  him- 
self ; and  he  contributes  to  the  welfare  of  the  community, 
by  promoting  a healthful  and  desirable  exchange  of  com- 
modities in  different  parts  of  the  land,  and  of  various  natures. 
The  same  is  true  of  the  mechanic,  the  mariner,  the  legisla- 
tor, the  bookmaker,  the  day-laborer,  the  schoolmaster,  the 
lawyer,  the  clergyman. 

Now,  we  maintain  that  the  traffic-in  ardent  spirits,  as  a 
drink,  is  a violation  of  this  wise  arrangement.  It  tends  to 
sap- the  foundation  of  the  whole  economy.  It  is  solely  to 
benefit  the  trafficker,  and  it  tends  to  evil,  evil  only,  evil  con- 
tinually. If  every  man  should  act  on  this  principle,  society 
could  not  exist.  If  every  man  should  choose  an  employ- 
ment that  should  necessarily  and  always  interfere  with  the 
peace,  and  happiness,  and  morals  of  others,  it  would  at  once 
break  up  the  organization.  If  every  manufacturer  should 
erect  a manufactory,  as  numerous  as  our  distilleries  and 
dram-shops,  that  should  necessarily  blight  every  farm,  and 
produce  sterility  in  its  neighborhood,  every  farmer  would 
regard  it  as  an  unlawful  employment ; and  if  pursued,  the 
business  of  agriculture  would  end.  If  a physician  could 
live  only  by  diffusing  disease  and  death,  who  would  regard 
his  as  a moral  employment  ? If  a mariner  could  pursue 
his  business  from  this  port  to  Calcutta  or  Canton,  only  by 
importing  the  plague  in  every  return  voyage,  who  would 
deem  it  an  honorable  employment  ? If  an  apothecary  could 
pursue  his  business  only  by  killing  nine  persons  out  of  ten 
of  those  with  whom  he  had  dealing,  who  would  deem  it  a 
lawful  business  ? If  a man  can  get  a living  in  his  employ- 
ment only  by  fitting  out  a privateer  and  preying  upon  the 
peaceful  commerce  of  the  world,  who  will  deem  it  a lawful 
employment  ? If  a man  lives  only  to  make  a descent  on  the 
peaceful  abodes  of  Africa,  and  to  tear  away  parents  from 


10 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


their  weeping  children,  and  husbands  from  their  wives  and 
homes,  where  is  the  man  that  will  deem  this  a moral  busi- 
ness ? And  why  not  ? Does  he  not  act  on  the  same  prin- 
ciple as  the  man  who  deals  in  ardent  spirits — a desire  to 
make  money,  and  that  only  ? The  truth  is,  that  in  all  these 
cases  there  would  be  a violation  of  the  great  fundamental 
law  on  which  men  must  agree  to  live  together  in  society — 
a violation  of  that  great,  noble,  and  benevolent  law  of  our 
organization,  by  which  an  honest  employment  interferes  with 
no  other,  but  may  tend  to  diffuse  blessings  in  the  whole 
circle  of  human  engagements.  And  the  traffic  in  ardent- 
spirits  is  just  as  much  a violation  of  this  law,  as  in  any  of  the 
cases  specified. 

2.  Every  man  is  bound  to  pursue  such  a business  as  to 
render  a valuable  consideration  for  that  which  he  receives 
from  others.  A man  who  receives  in  trade  the  avails  of  the 
industry  of  others,  is  under  obligation  to  restore  that  which 
will  be  of  real  value.  He  receives  the  fruit  of  toil ; he  re- 
ceives that  which  is  of  value  to  himself ; and  common  equity 
requires  that  he  return  a valuable  consideration.  Thus,  the 
merchant  renders  to  the  farmer,  in  exchange  for  the  growth 
of  his  farm,  the  productions  of  other  climes ; the  manufac- 
turer, that  which  is  needful  for  the  clothing  or  comfort  of 
the  agriculturist ; the  physician,  the  result  of  his  profes- 
sional skill.  All  these  are  valuable  considerations,  which 
are  fair  and  honorable  subjects  of  e.xchange.  They  are  a 
mutual  accommodation ; they  advance  the  interest  of  both 
parties.  But  it  is  not  so  with  the  dealer  in  ardent  spirits. 
He  obtains  the  property  of  his  fellow-men,  and  what  does 
he  return  ? That  which  will  tend  to  promote  his  real  wel- 
fare ? That  which  will  make  him  a happier  man  ? That 
which  will  benefit  bis  family  ? That  which  diffuses  learning 
and  domestic  comfort  around  his  family  circle?  Aone  of 
these  things.  He  gives  him  that  which  will  produce  pov- 
erty, and  want,  and  cursing,  and  tears,  and  death.  He  asked 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SITRITS. 


11 


an  egg',  and  he  receives  a scorpion.  He  gives  liim  that 
which  is  established  and  well  known  as  a source  of  no  good, 
but  as  tending  to  produce  beggary  and  wretchedness.  Now, 
if  this  were  practised  in  any  other  business,  it  would  be 
open  fraud.  If  in  any  way  you  could  palm  upon  a farmer 
that  which  is  not  only  ivortkless,  but  mischievous — that 
Avhich  would  certainly  tend  to  ruin  him  and  his  family,  could 
there  be  any  doubt  about  the  nature  of  this  employment  ? 
It  makes  no  difference  here,  that  the  man  supposes  that  it  is 
for  his  good  ; or  that  he  applies  for  it.  You  know  that  it 
is  not  for  his  benefit,  and  you  know — what  is  the  only  mar 
terial  point  under  this  head — that  it  will  tend  to  his  ruin. 
Whatever  he  may  think  about  it,  or  whatever  he  may  desire, 
you  are  well  advised  that  it  is  an  article  that  will  tend  to 
sap  the  foundation  of  his  morals  and  Irappiness,  and  con- 
duee  to  the  ruin  of  his  estate,  and  his  body,  and  his  soul ; 
and  you  know,  therefore,  that  you  are  not  rendering  him 
any  really  valuable  consideration  for  his  property.  The 
dealer  may  look  on  his  gains  in  this  matter — on  his  houses, 
or  mortgages,  or  lands,  obtained  as  the  result  of  this  busi- 
ness— with  something  like  these  reflections. 

“ This  property  has  been  gained  from  other  men.  It 
was  theirs,  honestly  acquired,  and  was  necessary  to  promote 
their  own  happiness  and  the  happiness  of  their  families.  It 
has  become  mine  by  a traffic  which  has  not  only  taken  it 
away  from  them,  but  which  has  ruined  their  peace,  cor- 
rupted their  morals,  sent  woe  and  discord  into  their  fami- 
lies, and  consigned  them  perhaps  to  an  early  and  most 
loathsome  grave.  This  property  has  come  from  the  hard 
earnings  of  other  men  ; has  passed  into  my  hands  without 
any  valuable  compensation  rendered  ; but  has  been  obtained 
only  while  I have  been  difl'using  want,  and  woe,  and  death, 
through  their  abodes.” 

Let  the  men  engaged  in  this  traffic  look  on  their  prop- 
erty thus  gained ; let  them  survey  the  woe  which  has 


12 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


attended  it ; and  then  ask,  as  honest  men,  whether  it  is  a 
moral  employment.  ’ 

3.  A man  is  bound  to  pursue  such  a business  as  shall 
tend  to  promote  the  welfare  of  the  whole  community.  This 
traffic  does  not.  We  have  seen  that  an  honorable  and  law- 
ful employment  conduces  to  the  welfare  of  the  whole  social 
organization.  But  the  welfare  of  the  whole  cannot  be  pro- 
moted by  this  traffic.  Somewhere  it  must  produce  poverty, 
and  idleness,  and  crime.  Even  OTantinsf,  what  cannot  be 
established,  that  it  may  promote  the  happiness  of  a partic- 
ular portion  of  the  community,  yet  it  must  be  at  the  expense 
of  some  other  portion.  You  may  export  poison  to  Georgia, 
and  the  immediate  effect  may  be  to  introduce  money  into 
Philadelphia,  but  the  only  important  inquiry  is,  what  will 
be  the  effect  on  the  whole  body  politic  ? Will  it  do  more 
good  than  evil  on  the  whole  ? Will  the  money  which  you 
may  receive  here,  be  a compensation  for  all  the  evil  which 
will  be  done  there  ? Money  a compensation  for  intemper- 
ance, and  idleness,  and  crime,  and  the  loss  of  the  health, 
the  happiness,  and  the  souls  of  men  ? 

Now  we  may  easily  determine  this  matter.  The  article 
thus  exported  will  do  as  much  evil  there  as  it  would  if  con- 
sumed here.  It  will  spread  just  as  much  devastation  some- 
where, as  it  would  if  consumed  in  your  own  family,  and 
among  your  own  friends  and  neighbors.  We  have  only  to 
ask,  what  would  be  the  effect  if  it  were  consumed  in  your 
own  habitation,  in  your  neighborhood,  in  your  own  city? 
Let  all  this  poison,  which  is  thus  exported  to  spread  woes 
and  death  somewhere-,  be  concentrated  and  consumed  where 
you  might  see  it,  and  is  there  any  man  who  will  pretend 
that  the  paltry  sum  which  he  receives  is  a compensation  for 
what  he  knows  would  be  the  effect  of  the  consumption? 
You  keep  your  own  atmosphere  pure,  it  may  be,  but  you 
export  the  pestilence,  and  curses,  and  lamentation  else- 
where, and  receive  a compensation  for  it.  You  sell  disease. 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


13 


and  death,  and  poverty,  and  nakedness,  and  tears  to  other 
families,  to  clothe  and  feed  your  own.  And  as  the  result 
of  this  current  of  moral  poison  and  pollution  which  you  may 
cause  to  flow  into  hundreds  of  other  families,  you  may  point 
to  a splendid  palace,  or  to  gay  apparel  of  your  sons  and 
daughters,  and  proclaim  that  the  evil  is  hidden  from  your 
eyes.  Families,  and  neighborhoods,  and  states,  may  groan 
and  bleed  somewhere,  and  thousands  may  die,  but  your 
gain  is  to  be  a compensation  for  it  all.  Is  this  an  honora- 
ble traffic  ? 

Suppose  a man  were  to  advertise  consumptions,  and 
fevers,  and  pleurisies,  and  Ipprosy,  for  gold,  and  could  and 
would  sell  them ; what  would  the  community  say  to  such 
a traffic  ? Suppose,  for  gain,  he  could  transport  them  to 
distant  places,  and  now  strike  down  by  a secret  power  a 
family  in  Maine,  and  now  at  St.  Mary’s,  and  now  at  Texas, 
and  now  at  St.  Louis ; what  would  the  community  think  of 
wealth  gained  in  such  a traffic  ? Suppose  he  could,  with 
the  same  ease,  diffuse  profaneness,  and  insanity,  and  rob- 
beries, and  murders,  and  suicides,  and  should  advertise  all 
these  to  be  propagated  through  the  land,  and  could  prevail 
on  men  to  buy  the  talismanic  nostrum  for  gold — what  would 
the  community  thint  of  such  a traffic  as  this  ? True,  he 
might  plead  that  it  brought  a vast  influx  of  money — that  it 
enriched  the  city,  or  the  country — that  the  effects  were  not 
seen  there ; but  what  would  be  the  public  estimate  of  a 
man  who  would  be  willing  to  engage  in  such  a traffic,  and 
who  would  set  up  such  a plea  ? Or  suppose  it  were  under- 
stood that  a farmer  from  the  interior  had  arrived  in  Phila- 
delphia with-  a load  of  flour,  nine-tenths  of  whose  barrels 
contained  a mixture,  more  or  less,  of  arsenic,  and  should 
offer  them  for  sale ; what  would  be  the  feelings  of  this 
community  at  such  a traffic  ? True,  the  man  might  plead 
that  it  would  produce  gain  to  his  country ; that  they  had 
taken  care  to  remove  it  to  another  popidation  ; that  liis  own 

VOL.  IX. 


14 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


family  was  secure.  Can  any  words  express  the  indignation 
which  would  be  felt?  Can  any  thing  express  the  hon-or 
w^hich  all  men  would  feel  at  such  a transaction  as  this,  and 
at  the  cold-blooded  and  inhuman  guilt  of  the  money-loving 
farmer  ? And  yet  we  witness  a thing  like  this  every  day, 
on  our  wharves,  and  in  our  ships,  and  our  groceries,  and 
j our  inns,  and  from  our  men  of  wealth,  and  our  moral  men, 

! and  our  professed  Christians — and  a horror  comes  through 
the  souls  of  men,  when  we  dare  to  intimate  that  this  is  an 
immoral  business. 

4.  A man  is  bound  to  pursue  such  a course  of  life  as 
not  necessarily  to  increase  the  burdens  arid  the  taxes  of  the 
•community.  Tlie  pauperism  and  crimes  of  this  land  grow 
out  of  this  vice,  as  an  overflowing  foimtain.  Three-fourths 
of  the  taxes  for  prisons,  and  houses  of  refuge,  and  alms- 
houses, would  be  cut  OS',  but  for  this  trafiic  and  the  attend- 
ant vices.  Nine-tenths  of  the  crimes  pf  the  country,  and  of 
the  expenses  of  litigation  for  crime,  would  be  prevented  by 
arresting  it.  Of  653  who  were  in  one  year  committed  to 
the  house  of  correction  in  Boston,  453  were  drunkards.  Of 
3,000  persons  admitted  to  the  workhouse  in  Salem,  Mass., 
2,900  were  brought  there  directly  or  indirectly  by  intem- 
perance. Of  592  male  adults  in  the  almshouse  in  New 
York,  not  20,  says  the  superintendent,  can  be  called  sober; 
and  of  601  women,  not  as  many  as  50.  Only  three  instances 
of  murder  in  the  space  of  fifteen  years,  in  New  York,  oc- 
curred, that  could  not  be  traced  to  ardent  spirit  as  the 
cause.  In  Philadelphia,  ten.  This  is  the  legitimate,  regu- 
lar effect  of  the  business.  It  tends  to  poverty,  crime,  and 
woe,  and  greatly  to  increase  the  taxes  and  burdens  of  the 
community. 

What  is  done  then  in  this  trafiic  ? You  are  filling  our 
almshouses,  and  jails,  and  penitentiaries,  with  victims  loath- 
some and  burdensome  to  the  community.  You  are  engaged 
in  a business  which  is  compelling  youi-  felloAv- citizens  to  pay 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


15 


taxes  to  support  the  victims  of  your  employment.  You  are 
filling  up  these  abodes  of  wretchedness  and  guilt,  and  then 
asking  your  fellow-citizens  to  pay  enormous  taxes  indirectly 
to  support  this  traffic.  For,  if  every  place  where  ardent 
spirits  can  be  obtained,  were  closed  in  this  city  and  its  sub- 
urbs, how  long  might  your  splendid  palaces  for  the  poor  be 
almost  untenanted  piles  ; how  soon  would  your  jails  dis- 
gorge their  inmates,  and  be  no  more  filled  ; how  soon  would 
tlie  habitations  of  guilt  and  infamy  in  every  city  become  the 
abodes  of  contentment  and  peace  ; and  how  soon  would 
reeling  loathsomeness  and  want  cease  to  assail  your  doors 
with  importunate  pleadings  for  charity. 

Now  we  have  only  to  ask  our  fellow-citizens,  what  right 
they  have  to  pursue  an  emploj'ment  tending  thus  to  burden 
tlie  community  with  taxes,  and  to  endanger  the  dwellings 
of  their  fellow  men,  and  to  send  to  my  door,  and  to  every 
other  man’s  door,  hordes  of  beggars  loathsome  to  the  sight ; 
or  to  compel  the  virtuous  to  seek  out  their  wives  and  chil- 
dren, amidst  the  squalldness  of  poverty,  and  the  cold  of 
winter,  and  the  pinchings  of  hunger,  to  supply  their  wants  ? 
Could  impartial  justice  be  done  in  the  world,  an  end  would 
soon  be  put  to  the  traffic  in  ardent  spirits.  Were  every 
man  bound  to  alleviate  all  the  wretchedness  which  his  busi- 
ness creates,  to  support  all  the  poor  which  his  traffic  causes, 
an  end  would  soon  be  made  of  this  employment.  But  alas, 
you  can  diffuse  this  poison  for  gain,  and  then  call  on  your 
industrious  and  virtuous  countrymen  to  alleviate  the  wretch- 
edness, to  tax  themselves  to  build  granite  prisons  for  the 
inmates  which  your  business  has  made  ; and  splendid  pal- 
aces, at  an  enormous  expense,  to  extend  a shelter  and  a 
home  for  those  whom  your  employment  has  turned  from 
their  own  habitations.  Is  this  a moral  employment  ? 
W ould  it  be  well  to  obtain  a living  in  this  way  in  any  other 
business  ? 

5.  The  business  is  inconsistent  with  the  law  of  God, 


16 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


which  requires  us  to  love  our  neighbor  as  ourselves.  A 
sufficient  proof  of  this  would  be  a fact  which  no  one  could 
deny,  that  no  man  yet,  probably,  ever  undertook  the  busi- 
ness, or  pursued  it  from  that  motive.  Its  defence  is  not, 
and  cannot  be  put  on  that  ground.  Ino  man  in  the  com- 
munity believes  that  a continuance  in  it  is  required  by  a 
regard  to  the  welfare  of  his  neighbor.  Every  one  knows 
that  his  welfare  does  not  require  it;  and  that  it  would  be 
conferring  an  inestimable  blessing  on  other  men,  if  the  traffic 
was  abandoned.  The  single,  sole  object  is  gain ; and  the 
sole  question  is,  whether  the  love  of  gain  is  a sufficient 
motive  for  continuing  .that  which  works  no  good,  but  con- 
stant ill  to  your  neighbor. 

There  is  another  law  of  God  which  has  an  important 
bearing  on  this  subject.  It  is  that  golden  rule  of  the  Isew 
Testament,  Avhich  commends  itself  to  the  conscience  of  all 
men,  to  do  to  others  as  you  would  wish  them  to  do  to  you. 
You  may  easily  conceive  of  )'our  having  a son,  who  was  in 
danger  of  becoming  a drunkard.  Your  hope  might  centre 
in  him.  He  might  be  the  stay  of  your  age.  He  may  be 
inclined  to  dissipation ; and  it  may  have  required  all  your 
vigilance,  and  prayei's,  and  tears,  and  authority,  to  keep 
him  in  the  ways  of  soberness.  The  simple  question  now 
is,  what  would  you  wish  a neighbor  to  do  in  such  a case  ? 
Would  it  be  the  desire  of  your  heart,  that  he  should  open 
a fountain  of  poison  at  your  next  door ; that  he  should,  for 
gain,  be  willing  to  put  a cup  into  the  hands  of  your  son, 
and  entice  him  to  the  ways  of  intemperance?  Would  you 
be  pleased  if  he  would  listen  to  no  remonstrance  of  yours, 
if  he  should  even  disregard  your  entreaties  and  your  tears, 
and  coolly  see,  for  the  love  of  gold,  ruin  coming  into  your 
family,  and  your  prop  taken  from  beneath  you,  and  your 
gray  hairs  coming  down  with  sorrow  to  the  grave  ? And 
yet  to  manjr  such  a son  may  you  sell  the  poison ; to  many 
a father  whose  children  are  clothed  in  rags ; to  many  a man 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


17 


whose  wife  sits  weeping  amidst  poverty  and  want»-  and 
dreading  to  hear  the  tread  and  the  voice  of  the  husband  of 
her  youth,  once  her  protector,  who  now  comes  to  convert 
his  own  habitation-  into  a hell.  And  there  are  not  a few 
men  of  fair  standing  in  society  who  are  engaged  in  this ; 
and  not  a few — O' tell  it  not  in  Gath — who  claim  the  hon- 
ored name  of  Christian,  and  who  profess  to  bear  the  image 
of  Him  who  went  about  doing  good.  Can  such  be  a moral 
business  ? 

6.  The  traffic  is  a violation  of  that  law  which  requires 
a man  to  honor  God.  Whether  ye  eat,  or  drink,  or  what- 
soever ye  do,  do  all  to  the  glory  of  God.  And  yet  is  this 
a business  which  was  ever  engaged  in,  or  ever  pursued, 
with  a desire  to  honor  God  ? Is  it  an  employment  over 
which  a man  will  pray  ? Can  he  ask  the  God  of  heaven 
to  give  him  success  ? Let  him,  then,  in  imagination,  follow 
what  he  sells  to  its  direct  result ; let  him  attend  it  to  its 
final  distribution  of  poverty,  and  woes,  and  crimes,  and 
death,  and  then  kneel  before  heaven’s  eternal  King,  and 
render  thanksgiving  for  this  success  ? Alas,  it  cannot  be. 
Man  pursues  it  not  from  a desire  to  honor  God.  And  can 
the  man  who  is  engaged  in  a business  on  Avhich  he  cannot 
implore  the  blessing  of  heaven ; who  is  obliged  to  conceal 
all  thoughts  of  it  if  he  ever  prays;  who  never  engaged  in 
it  with  a desire  to  glorify  God,  or  to  meet  his  approbation, 
can  he  be  engaged  in  a business  which  is  lawful  and  right? 

I might  dwell  further  on  these  points.  But  I am  now 
prepared  to  ask,  with  emphasis,  whether  an  employment 
that  has  been  attended  with  so  many  ills  to  the  bodies  and 
souls  of  men ; with  so  much  woe  and  crime ; whose  results 
are  evil,  and  only  evil  continually ; an  employment  which 
cannot  be  pursued  without  tending  to  destroy  the  very 
purposes  of  the  organization  of  society ; without  violating 
the  rule  which  requires  us  to  render  a valuable  considera- 
tion in  business;  without  violating  the  rule  which  requires  a 
von.  IX. 


18 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


man  to  promote  the  -welfare  of  the  irhole  of  the  commu- 
nity ; which  promotes  pauperism  and  crime,  and  imposes 
heavy  burdens  on  your  fellow- citizens ; which  is  opposed 
equally  to  the  love  of  man  and  the  law  of  God — ivhether 
this  is  a moral,  or  an  immoral  employment  ? 

The  question  is  submitted.  If  moral,  it  should  be  driven 
on  with  all  the  power  of  American  energy;  with  all  the 
aids  of  wealth,  and  all  the  might  of  steam,  and  all  the 
facilities  of  railroads  and  canals ; for  our  country  and  the 
church  calls  the  man  to  the  honorable  employment.  But 
if  it  be  immoral  and  wrong,  it  should  be  abandoned  on  the 
spot.  Hot  another  gallon  should  ever  pass  from  your" store, 
if  it  be  evil,-  only  evil,  and  that  continually. 

\Ye  are  prepared  now  to  examine  a few  of  the  objec- 
tions to  this  doctrine. 

1.  The  first  is,  that  the  traffic  is  not  condemned  in  the 
Bible.  To  this  the  answer  is  very  obvious.  The  article 
was  then  unknown.  Hor  was  it  known  until  600  years 
after  the  Bible  was  completed.  This  mode  of  extending 
and  perpetuating  depraidty  in  the  world  was  not  suggested 
by  the  father  of  ev-il,  until  it  was  too  late  to  make  a formal 
law  against  it  in  the  Bible,  or  to  fortify  the  argument  of 
human  depravity  from  this  source.  It  is  neither  in  the 
Bible,  nor  in  any  other  code  of  laws,  the  custom  to  specify 
crimes  which  do  not  exist.  How  remarkable  in  a code  of 
laws  would  have  been  such  a declaration  as  the  trafficker 
demands,  “ Thou  shalt  not  deal  in  ardent  spirits,”  hundreds 
of  years  before  the  article  was  known.  Tlie  world  would 
have  stood  in  amazement,  and  would  have  been  perplexed 
and  confounded  by  an  unmeaning  statute.  But  further,  it 
is  not  the  practice  in  the  Bible,  or  in  any  other  book  of 
laws,  to  specify  each  shade  and  degree  of  wrong.  Had  it 
been,  there  could  have  been  no  end  of  legislation,  and  no 
end  to  books  of  law.  I ask  the  dealer  in  ardent  spirits. 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


19 


where  is  there  a formal  prohibition  of  piracy,  or  bigamy, 
or  kidnapping,  or  suicide,  or  duelling,  or  the  sale  of  ob* 
scene  books  and  paintings  ? And  yet  does  any  man  doubt 
that  these  are  immoral  ? Does  he  believe  that  the  Bible 
will  countenance  them  ? Will  he  engage  in  them,  because 
they  are  not  specified  formally,  and  with  technical  preci- 
sion,  in  the  Scriptures  ? The  truth  is,  that  the  Bible  has 
laid  down  great  principles  of  conduct,  which  on  all  these 
subjects  can  be  easily  applied,  which  arc  applied,  and  which, 
under  the  guidance  -of  equal  honesty,  may  be  as  easily 
applied  to  the  traffic  of  which  I am  speaking.  Still  further, 
the  Bible  has  forbidden  it  in  principle,  and  with  all  the 
precision  .wdiicli  can  be  demanded.  A man  cannot  pursue 
the  business,  as  has  been  shown,  without  violating  its  great 
principles.  He  cannot  do  justly  in  it ; he  cannot  show 
mercy  by  it ; he  cannot  seek  to  alleviate  human  woes  by  it ; 
he  cannot  do  as  he  would  wish  to  be  done  unto ; he  cannot 
pursue  it  to  glorify  God.  The  great  principles  of  the  Bible, 
the  spirit  of  the  Bible,  and  a thousand  texts  of  the  Bible 
are  pointed  against  it ; and  every  step  the  trafficker  takes, 
he  infringes  on  the  spirit  and  bearing  of  some  declaration 
of  God.  And  still  further,  it  is  his  business  to  make  out 
the  propriety  of  the  -employment,  not  ours  to  make  out  the 
c'ase  against  him.  Here  is  the  rule — for  him  to  judge. 
By  this  he  is  to  be  tried  ; and  unless  he  can  find  in  the  vol- 
ume a rule  that  will  justify  him  in  a business  for  gain  that 
scatters  inevitable  woes  and  death ; that  accomplishes  more 
destruction  than  all  the  chariots  of  war  and  the  desolations 
of  gunpowder  on  the  field  of  blood ; that  sends  more  hu- 
man beings  to  the  grave,  than  fire,  and  flood,  and  pestilence, 
and  famine,  altogether;  that  heaps  on  human  society  more 
burdens  than  all  other  causes  combined ; that  sends  armies 
on  armies,  in  a form  more  appalling,  and  infinitely  more 
loathsome  than  Napoleon’s  “food  for  cannon,”  to  the 
grave : unless  he  can  find  some  prophecy,  or  some  princi- 


20 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


pie,  or  some  declaration,  that  ivill  justify  these,  the  Bible 
is  against  him,  and  he  knows  it.  As  well  might  he  search 
for  a principle  to  authorize  him  to  plant  a Bohon  Upas 
on  every  man’s  farm,  and  in  the  heart  of  every  city  and 
hamlet. 

2.  A second  plea  is,  “ If  I do  not  do  it,  others  will ; 
the  traffic  will  go  on.”  Then,  I answer,  let  others  do  it, 
and  on  them,  not  on  you,  be  the  responsibility.  But  it  is 
said,  perhaps,  if  it  is  hot  in  youi-  hands — the  hands  of  the 
respectable  and  the  pious — it  will  hb  in  the  hands  of  the 
unprincipled  and  the  profligate.  I answer,  there  let  it 
BE.  There,  if  anywhere,  it  should  be.  There,  if  these 
principles  are  correct,  is  its  appropriate  place.  And  if  that 
were  done,  intemperance  would  soon  cease  to  curse  the 
land.  It  is  just  because  it  is  upheld  hy  the  rich,  and  the 
reputable,  and  by  professed  Christians,  that  the  reform  drags 
so  heavily.  The  business  has  never  found  its  proper  level. 
And  0 that  the  dealers  in  it  would  kindly  forego  this  plea 
of  benevolence,, and  feel  themselves  released  from  this  ob- 
ligation. But  is  this  a correct  principle  of  conduct  ? Is 
this  the  rule  which  heaven  has  given,  or  which  conscience 
gives,  to  direct  the  doings  of  man  ? Have  I a right  to  do 
all  which  I know  other  men  will  do  ? Other  men  will  com- 
mit murder.  Have  I a right  to  do  it  ? Other  men  will 
commit  adultery.  Have  I a right  to  do  it?  Other  men 
will  curse,  and  swear,  and  steal.  Have  you  a right  to  do 
it?  Other  men  will  prey  on  unoffending  Africa,  and  bear 
human  sinews  across  the  ocean  to  be  sold.  Have  you  a 
right  to  do  it  ? The  traffic  in  human  flesh  will  go  on ; 
ships  will  be  fitted  out  from  American  ports;  and  Ameri- 
can hands  will  bear  a part  of  the  price  of  the  tears  and 
groans  of  enslaved  men.  And  why  should  not  you  parti- 
cipate with  them,  on  the  same  principle  ? 

3.  A third  excuse  is,  that  the  traffic  is  the  source  of  gain 
to  the  countrv.  Now  this  is  known  to  be  not  so.  More 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


21 


tlian  100,000,000  of  dollars  would  be  necessary  to  repair 
to  this  land  the  annual  loss  in  this  business.  Is  it  no  loss 
that  300,000  men  are  drunkards,  and  are  th5  slaves  of  indo- 
lence and  want  ? Is  it  no  loss  to  the  nation  that  30,000  each 
year  go  to  the  grave  ? Is  there  no  loss  in  tho  expense  of  sup- 
porting 75,000  criminals,  and  nine-tenths  of  the  paupers  in 
the  land  ? Is  it  no  loss  that  bad  debts  are  made,  and  men 
are  made  unable  and  unwilling  to  pay  their  debts  ? AVhence 
are  rjour  bad  debts?  Whence,  but  directly  or  Indirectly 
from  this  business?  From  the  indolence,  and  want  of  prin- 
ciple, and  want  of  attention,  which  intemperance  produces  ? 

4.  The  man  who  is  engaged  in  this  business  says,  per- 
haps, “ I have  inherited  it,  and  it  is  the  source  of  my  gain ; 
and  what  shall  I do  ?”  I answer,  beg,  dig — do  any  tiling 
hut  this.  It  would  be  a glorious  martyrdom  to  starve,  con- 
trasted<.with  obtaining  a livelihood  by  such  an  employment. 
In  this  land,  assuredly,  men  cannot  plead  that  there  are  no 
honorable  sources  of  livelihood  open  before  them.  Besides, 
from  whom  do  we  hear  this  plea  ? As  often  as  otherwise 
from  the  man  that  rolls  in  wealth  ; that  lives  in  a palace ; 
that  clothes  his  family  in  the  attire  of  princes  and  of  courts ; 
and  that  moves  in  the  circles  of  fashion  and  splendor.  0 
how  cheering  is  consistent  pleading ; how  lovely  the  ex- 
pressions of  perfect  honesty ! This  business  may  be  aban- 
doned without  difficulty.  The  only  question  is,  whether 
the  love  of  man,  and  the  dictates  of  conscience,  and  the 
fear  of  God,  shall  prevail  over  the  love  of  that  polluted  gold 
which  this  traffic  in  the  lives  and  souls  of  men  shall  intro- 
duce into  your  dwelling. 

During  a warmly  contested  election  in  the  city  of  New 
York,  it  is  stated  in  the  daily  papers  that  numerous  applica- 
tions were  made  for  pistols  to  those  who  kept  them  for  sale. 
It  is  added  that  the  application  was  extensively  denied,  on 
the  ground  of  the  apprehension  that  they  were  intended  for 
bloodshed  in  the  excitement  of  the  contest.  This  was  a 

Temp-  Vol.  2 O 


22 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


noble  instance  of  principle.  But  on  the  plea  of  the  dealer 
in  ardent  spirits,  why  should  they  have  been  withheld?  The 
dealer  in  fire-arms  might  have  plead  as  the  trafficker  in 
poison  does : “ This  is  my  business.  I obtain  a livelihood 
by  it.  / am  not  responsible  for  what  will  he  done  with  the 
fire-arms.  True,  the  people  are  agitated.  I have  every 
reason  to  beheve  that  application  is  made  with  a purpose  to 
take  life.  True,  blood  may  flow  and  useful  lives  may  be 
lost.  But  I am  not  responsible.  If  they  take  life,  they  are 
answerable.  The  e.xcitement  is  a favorable  opportunity  to 
dispose  of  my  stock  on  hand,  and  it  is  a part  of  my  business 
to  avail  myself  of  all  favorable  circumstances  in  the  com- 
munity to  make  money.”  Who  would  not  have  been  struck 
with  the  cold-blooded  and  inhuman  avarice  of  such  a man  ? 
And  yet  there  was  not  half  the  moral  certainty  that  those 
fire-arms  Avould  have  been  used  for  purposes  of  blood,  that 
there  is  that  ardent  spirits  will  be  employed  to  produce 
crime,  and  poverty,  and  death. 

I have  no  time  to  notice  other  objections.  Nor  need  I. 
I have  stated  the  principle  of  all.  I just  add  here,  that  the 
e.vcuses  which  are  set  up  for  this  traffic  will  apply  just  as 
well  to  any  other  business  as  this,  and  will  full}'  vindicate 
any  other  employment,  if  they  are  to  be  sustained.  Apply 
these  excuses  to  the  case  of  a bookseller.  The  question  might, 
be  suggested,  whether  it  was  a moral  or  an  immoral  business 
to  deal  in  infidel,  profligate,  and  obscene  pictures  and  books. 
True,  it  might  be  alleged  that  they  did  evil,  and  only  evil 
continually.  It  might  be  said  that  neither  the  love  of  God 
or  man  would  prompt  to  it.  He  might  be  pointed  to  the  fact, 
that  they  always  tended  to  corrupt  the  morals  of  youth ; to 
blight  the  hopes  of  parents;  to  fill  up  houses  of  infamy;  to 
blot  out  the  hopes  of  heaven ; and  to  sink  men  to  hell.  But 
then  he  might  with  commendable  coolness  add,  “ This  traf- 
fic is  not  condemned  in  the  Bible.  If  I do  not  eng^e  in 
it,  others  will.  It  contributes  to  my  livelihood  ; to  thusup- 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


23 


port  of  the  press ; to  the  promotion  of  business ; and  I am 
not  responsible  for  their  reading  the  books,  nor  for  their 
desire  for  them.  I am  pursuing  the  way  in  which  my 
fathers  walked  before  me,  and  it  is  my  living,  and  I will  do 
it”  Wherein  does  this  plea  differ  from  that  of  the  traf- 
ficker in  ardent  spirits  ? Alas,  Ave  have  learned  how  to 
estimate  its  force  in  regard  to  other  sins  ; but  Ave  shrink 
from  its  application  in  regard  to  this  Avide-spread  business, 
that  employs  so  much  of  the  time  and  the  Avealth  of  the 
people  of  this  land. 

Here  I close.  The  path  of  duty  and  of  safety  is  plain. 
These  evils  may  be  corrected.  A virtuous  and  an  indepen- 
dent people  may  rise  in  their  majesty  and  correct  them  all. 
I call  on  all  whom  I noAv  address,  to  exert  their  influence 
in  this  cause ; to  abandon  all  connection  Avith  the  traffic ; and 
to  become  the  firm,  and  Avarm,  and  thorough-going  advo- 
cates of  the  temperance  reformation.  Your  country  calls 
you  to  it.  Every  man  Avho  loves  her  Avelfare,  should  pursue 
no  half-way  measures ; should  tread  no  vacillating  course 
in  this  great  and  glorious  reformation. 

But  more  especially  may  I call  on  young  men,  and  ask 
their  patronage  in  this  cause.  For  they  are  in  danger;  and 
they  are  the  source  of  our  hopes,  and  they  are  our  strength. 
I appeal  to  them  by  their  hopes  of  happiness  ; by  their 
prospects  of  long  life ; by  their  desire  of  property  and  health ; 
by  their  Avish  for  reputation ; and  by  the  fact  that  by  absti- 
nence, strict  abstinence  alone,  are  they  safe  from  the  crimes, 
and  loathsomeness,  and  grave  of  the  drunkard.  Young 
men,  I beseech  you  to  regard  the  liberties  of  your  country ; 
the  purity  of  the  churches ; your  oAvn  Aisefulness ; and  the 
honor  of  your  family— -the  feelings  of  a father,  a mother, 
and  a sister.  And  I conjure  you  to  take  this  stand  by  a 
reference  to  your  OAvn  immortal  Avelfare ; by  a regard  to  that 
heaven  Avhich  a drunkard  enters  not — and  by  a fear  of  that 
hell  Avhich  is  his  oavu  appropriate,  eternal  home. 


24 


TRAFFIC  IN  ARDENT  SPIRITS. 


Again  I appeal  to  my  fellow  professing  Christians ; the 
ministers  of  religion,  the  officers  and  members  of  the  pure 
church  of  God.  The  pulpit  should  speak,  in  tones  deep, 
and  solemn,  and  constant,  and  reverberatinar  throuofh  the 
land.  The  watchmen  should  see  eye  to  eye.  Of  every  officer 
and  member  of  a church  it  should  be  known  where  he  may 
be  found.  We  want  no  vacillating  counsels ; no  time-serving 
apologies ; no  coldness,  no  reluctance,  no  shrinking  back  in 
this  cause.  Every  church  of  Christ,  the  world  over,  should 
be,'  in  very  deed,  an  organization  of  pure  temperance  under 
the  headship  and  patronage  of  Jesus  Christ,  the  friend  and 
the  model  of  purity.  Members  of  the  church  of  God  most 
pure,  bear  it  in  mind,  that  intemperance  in  our  land,  and 
the  world  over,  stands  in  the  way  of  the  Gospel.  It  opposes 
the  progress  of  the  reign  of  Christ  in  every  village  and 
hamlet ; in  every  city ; and  at  eveiy  corner  of  the  street.  It 
stands  in  the  way  of  revivals  of  religion,  and  of  the  glories 
of  the  millennial  morn.  Every  drunkard  opposes  the  mil- 
lennium; every  dram-drinker  stands  in  the  way  of  it;  every 
dram-seller  stands  in  the  way  of  it.  Let  the  sentiment  be 
heard,  and  echoed,  and  reechoed,  all  along  the  hills,  and 
vales,  and  streams  of  the  land,  that  the  conversion  of  a man 
who  habitually  uses  ardent  spirits  is  all  but  hopeless.  And 
let  this  sentiment  be  followed  up  with  that  other  melancholy 
truth,  that  the  money  wasted  in  this  business — now  a curse 
to  all  nations — nay,  the  money  wasted  in  one  year  in  this 
land  for  it,  would  place  a Bible  in  every  family  on  the  earth, 
and  establish  a school  in  every  village ; and  that  the  talent 
which  intemperance  consigns  each  year  to  infamy  and  eter- 
nal perdition,  would  be  sufficient  to  bear  the  Gospel  over 
sea  and  land — to  polar  snows,  and  to  the  sands  of  a burning 
sun.  The  pulpit  must  speak  out.  And  the  press  must 
speak.  And  you,  fellow-Christians,  are  summoned  by  the 
God  of  purity  to  take  your  stand,  and  cause  your  influence 
to  be  felt. 


THE 


FOOLS’  PENCE. 


Have  you  ever  seen  a London  gin-shop  ? There  is,  per- 
haps, no  statelier  shop  in  the  magnificent  chief  city  of  Eng- 
land. No  expense  seems  to  he  spared  in  the  building  and 
the  furnishing  of  a gin-shop. 

Not  many  years  ago  a gin-shop  was  a mean-looking, 
and  by  no  means  a spacious  place,  with  a few  small  bottles, 
not  bigger  than  a doctor’s  largest  vials,  in  the  dusty  win- 
dow. But  now,  however  poor  many  of  the  working  clas.ses 
may  he,  it  seems  to  he  their  pleasure  to  squander  their 
little  remaining  money  upon  a number  of  these  palaces, 
as  if  they  were  determined  that  the  persons  whom  they 
employ  to  sell  them  poison  should  dwell  in  the  midst  of 
luxury  and  splendor.  I do  not  mean  to  say,  that  we  have 
VOL.  IX. 


2 


THE  FOOLS’  PENCE. 


a right  to  throw  all  the  blame  upon  the  master  or  the  mis 
tress  of  a gin-shop.  For  my  part,  I should  not  like  to  keep 
one,  and  be  obliged  to  get  rich  upon  the  money  of  the  poor 
infatuated  creatiu'es  who  will  ruin  both  soul  and  body  in 
gin-drinking ; but  the  master  of  the  gin-shop  may  be  heard 
to  say,  “ I don’t  force  the  people  to  drink ; they  will  have 
gin,  and  if  I do  not  sell  to  them  somebody  else  will.”  The 
story  of  “The  Fools’  Pence,”  which  follows,  is  worth  at- 
tending to. 

A little  mean-looking  man  sat  talking  to  Mrs.  Crowder, 
the  mistress  of  the  Punch-bowl : “ Why,  Mrs.  Crowdei',” 
said  he,  “ I should  hardly  know  you  again.  Really,  I must 
say  you  have  things  in  the  first  style.  What  an  elegant 
paper ; what  noble  chairs  ; what  a pair  of  fire-screens  ; all 
so  bright  and  so  fresh ; and  yourself  so  well,  and  looking 
so  well !” 

kirs.  Crowder  had  dropped  languidly  into  an  arm-chair, 
and  sat  sighing  and  smiling  with  affectation,  not  turning  a 
deaf  ear  to  her  visitor,  but  taking  in  with  her  eyes  a full 
view  of  what  passed  in  the  shop ; having  drawn  aside  the 
curtain  of  rose-colored  silk,  which  sometimes  covei'ed  the 
window  in  the  wall  between  the  shop  and  the  parlor. 

“ Why,  you  see,  Mr.  Berriman,”  she  replied,  “ our  busi- 
ness is  a thriving  one,  and  we  don’t  love  to  neglect  it,  for 
one  must  work  hard  for  an  honest  livelihood ; and  then  you 
see,  my  two  girls,  Letitia  and  Lucy,  were  about  to  leave 
their  boarding-school ; so  Mr.  Crowder  and  I wished  to 
make  the  old  place  as  genteel  and  fashionable  as  we  could  ; 
and  what  with  new  stone  copings  to  the  windows,  and  new 
French  window-frames  to  the  first  floor,  and  a little  paint, 
and  a little  papering,  Mr.  Berriman,  we  begin  to  look  toler- 
able. I must  say  too,  Mr.  Crowder  has  laid  out  a deal  of 
money  in  fitting  up  the  shop,  and  in  filling  his  cellars.” 

“ Well,  ma’am,”  continued  Mr.  Berriman,  “ I don’t 
know  where  you  find  the  needful  for  all  these  improve- 
ments. For  my  part,  I can  only  say,  our  trade  seems  quite 
at  a stand-still.  There’s  my  wife  always  begging  for  money 
to  pay  for  this  or  that  little  necessary  article,  but  I part 
from  every  penny  with  a pang.  Dear  Mrs.  Crowder,  how 
do  you  manage?” 

Mrs.  Crowder  simpered,  and  raising  her  eyes,  and  look- 


THE  FOOLS’  PENCE. 


3 


ing  with  a g-lance  of  smiling-  contempt  towards  the  crowd 
of  customers  in  the  shop,  “ The  fools’  pence — ’tis  the 
fools’  pence  that  does  it  for  us,”  she  said. 

Perhaps  it  was  owing  to  the  door  being  just  then  opened 
and  left  ajar  by  Miss  Lucy,  who  had  been  serving  in  the 
bar,  that  the  words  of  Mrs.  Crowder  were  heard  by  a man 
named  George  Manly,  who  stood  at  the  upper  end  of  the 
counter.  He  turned  his  eyes  upon  the  customers  who  were 
standing  near  him,  and  saw  pale,  sunken  cheeks,  inflamed 
eyes,  and  ragged  garments.  He  turned  them  upon  the 
stately  apartment  in  which  they  were  assembled ; he  saw 
that  it  had  been  fitted  up  at  no  trifling  cost;  he  stared 
through  the  partly  open  doorway  into  the  parlor,  and  saw 
looking-glasses,  and  pictures,  and  gilding,  and  fine  furniture, 
and  a rich  carpet,  and  Miss  Lucy,  in  a silk  gown,  sitting- 
down  to  her  piano-forte : and  he  thought  within  himself, 
how  strange  it  is,  by  what  a curious  process  it  is,  that  all 
this  wretchedness  on  my  left  hand  is  made  to  turn  into  all 
this  rich  finery  on  my  right ! 

“Well,  sir,  and  what’s  for  you?” 

These  words  were  spoken  in  the  same  shrill  voice  which 
had  made  the  “ fools’  pence  ” ring  in  his  ears. 

George  Manly  was  still  in  deep  thought,  and  with  the 
end  of  his  rule — for  he  was  a carpenter — he  had  been  mak- 
ing a calculation,  drawing  the  figures  in  the  little  puddles 
of  gin  upon  the  counter.  He  looked  up  and  saw  Mrs. 
Crowder  herself  as  gay  as  her  daughters,  with  a cap  and 
colored  ribbons  flying  off  her  head,  and  a pair  of  gold 
earrings  almost  touching  her  plump  shoulders.  “A  glass 
of  gin,  ma’am,  is  what  I was  waiting  for  to-night,  but  I 
think  I’ve  paid  the  last  ‘fools'  pence  ’ I shall  put  down  on 
this  counter  for  many  a long  day.” 

George  Manly  hastened  home.  His  wife  and  his  two 
little  girls  were  sitting  at  work.  They  were  thin  and  pale, 
really  for  want  of  food.  The  room  looked  very  cheerless, 
and  their  fire  was  so  small  that  its  warmth  was  scarcely 
felt ; yet  the  commonest  observer  must  have  been  struck 
by  the  neatness  and  cleanliness  of  the  apartment  and  every 
thing  about  it. 

“ This  is  indeed  a treat,  girls,  to  have  dear  father  home 
so  soon  to-night,”  said  Susan  Manly,  looking  up  at  her 


4 


THE  FOOLS’  PENCE. 


Inisband  as  he  stood  before  the  table,  turning  bis  eyes  first 
upon  one  and  then  upon  another  of  the  little  party;  then 
throwing  himself  into  a chair,  and  smiling,  he  said, 

“ Well,  children,  a’n’t  you  glad  to  see  me  ? May  not 
those  busy  little  fingers  stop  a moment,  just  while  you 
jump  up  and  throw  your  arms  about  your  father’s  neck, 
and  kiss  him  ?” 

“ 0 yes,  we  have  time  for  that,”  said  one  of  the  girls, 
as  they  both  sprang  up  to  kiss  their  father. 

“ But  we  have  no  time  to  lose,  dear  father,”  said  Sally, 
pressing  her  cheek  to  his,  and  speaking  in  a kind  of  coax- 
ing whisper  close  to  his  ear,  “for  these  shirts  are  the  last 
of  the  dozen  we  have  been  making  for  Mr.  Farley,  in  the 
Corn-market.” 

“And  as  no  work  can  be  done  to-moiTow,”  added 
Betsy  gravely,  who  stood  with  her  little  hand  in  her 
father’s,  “ we  are  all  working  as  hard  as  we  can ; for 
mother  has  promised  to  take  them  home  on  Monday  after- 
noon.” 

, “Either  your  eyes  are  very  weak  to-night,  dear  wife,” 
said  George,  “or  you  have  been  crying.  I’m  afraid  you 
work  too  hard  by  candlelight.” 

Susan  smiled,  and  said,  “ Worlcing  does  not  hurt  my 
eyes,”  and  as  she  spoke,  she  turned  her  head  and  beckoned 
with  her  finger  to  her  little  boy. 

“AVhy,  John,  what’s  this  that  I see?”  said  his  father. 
“ What,  you  in  the  corner  ! Come  out,  and  tell  me  what 
you  have  been  doing.” 

“ Nay,  never  mind  it,  dear  husband  ; John  will  be  very 
good,  I hope,  and  we  had  better  saj’^  no  more  about  what 
is  past.” 

“Yes,  but  I must  know,”  said  he,  drawing  John  close 
to  him.  “ Come,  tell  me  what  has  been  the  m.atter.” 

John  was  a plain-spoken  bo}*,  and  had  a straight-forward 
way  of  speaking  the  truth.  He  came  up  to  his  father,  and 
looked  full  in  his  face,  and  said,  “ The  baker  came  for  his 
money  to-night,  and  would  not  leave  the  loaves  without 
mother  paid  for  them ; and  though  he  was  cross  and  rough 
to  mother,  he  said  it  was  not  her  fault,  and  that  he  was 
sure  you  had  been  drinking  away  all  the  money ; and  when 
he  was  gone,  mother  cried  over  her  work,  but  she  did  not 
say  any  thing.  I did  not  know  she  was  crying,  till  I saw 


THE  FOOLS’  PEN'CE. 


5 


her  tears  fall,  drop,  drop,  on  her  hands ; and  then  I said 
bad  words,  and  mother  sent  me  to  stand  in  the  corner.” 

“And  now,  John,  you  may  bring  me  some  coal,”  said 
Susan  ; “ there’s  a fine  lump  in  the  coal-box.” 

“But  first  tell  me  what  your  bad  words  were,  John,” 
said  his  father ; “ not  swearing,  I hope  ?” 

“No,”  said  John,  coloring,  but  speaking  as  bluntly  as 
before,  “ I said  that  you  were  a bad  man.  I said,  bad 
father.” 

“And  they  were  bad  words,  I am  sure,”  said  Susan, 
very  calmly  ; “ but  you  are  forgiven,  and  so  you  may  get 
me  the  coal.” 

George  looked  at  the  face  of  his  wife,  and  as  he  met 
the  tender  gaze  of  her  mild  eyes  now  turned  to  him,  he 
felt  the  tears  rise  in  his  own.  He  rose  up,  and  as  he  put 
the  money  into  his  wife’s  hands;  he  said,  “ There  are  my 
week’s  wages.  Come,  come,  hold  out  both  hands,  for  you 
have  not  got  all  yet.  Well,  now  you  have  every  farthing. 
Keep  the  whole,  and  lay  it  out  to  the  best  advantage,  as 
you  always  do.  I hope  this  will  be  a beginning  of  better 
doings  on  my  part,  and  happier  days  on  yours ; and  now 
put  on  your  bonnet,  and  I’ll  walk  with  you  to  pay  the 
baker,  and  buy  a bushel  or  two  of  coal,  or  any  thing  else 
you  may  be  in  want  of ; and  when  we  come  back  I’ll  read 
a chapter  of  the  Bible  to  you  and  the  girls,  while  you  get 
on  with  the  needle-work.” 

Susan  went  up  stairs  to  put  on  her  bonnet  and  shawl, 
and  she  remained  a little  longer,  to  kneel  down  on  the  spot 
where  she  hud  often  knelt  almost  heart-broken  in  prayer — 
prayer  that  her  heavenly  Father  would  turn  her  husband’s 
heart,  first  to  his  Saviour,  and  then  to  his  wife  and  children  ; 
and  that,  in  the  meantime,  he  would  give  her  patience.  She 
knelt  down  this  time  to  pour  out  her  heart  in  thanksgiving 
and  praise.  The  pleasant  tones  of  her  husband’s  voice 
called  her  from  her  knees. 

George  Manly  told  his  wife  that  evening,  after  the  chil- 
dren were  gone  to  bed,  that  when  he  saw  what  the  pence 
of  the  poor  could  do  towards  keeping  up  a fine  house,  and 
dressing  out  the  landlord’s  wife  and  daughters ; and  when 
he  thought  of  his  own  hard-working,  uncomplaining  Susan, 
and  his  children  in  want,  and  almost  in  rags,  while  he  was 
sitting  drinking,  and  drinking,  night  after  night,  more  like 


6 


THE  FOOLS’  PENCE. 


a beast  than  a man,  destroying  his  own  manly  strength, 
and  the  fine  health  God  had  given  him,  he  was  so  struck 
with  sorrow  and  shame,  that  he  seemed  to  come  to  himself 
at  last.  He  made  his  determination,  from  that  hour,  never 
again  to  put  the  intoxicating  glass  to  his  lips,  and  he  hoped 
lie  made  it  in  dependence  upon  God  for  grace  and  strength 
to  keep  it. 

It  was  more  than  a year  after  Mrs.  Crowder,  of  the 
Punch-bowl,  had  first  missed  a regular  customer  from  her 
house,  and  when  she  had  forgotten  to  express  her  wonder 
as  to  what  could  have  become  of  the  good-looking  carpenter 
that  generally  spent  his  earnings  there,  and  drank  and 
spent  liis  money  so  freely — 

“ There,  get  on  as  fast  as  you  can,  dears ; run,  girls, 
and  don’t  stop  for  me,  your  beautiful  dresses  will  be  quite 
spoilt;  never  mind  me,  for  my  levantine  is  a French  silk, 
and  won’t  spot.” 

These  words  were  screamed  out  as  loud  as  her  haste 
would  permit,  by  Mrs.  Crowder,  who  was  accompanying 
her  daughters,  one  Sunday  evening,  to  the  tea-gardens. 

She  was  answered  by  Miss  Lucy,  “You  know,  ma,  we 
can’t  run,  for  our  shoes  are  so  tight.” 

“Then  turn  into  one  of  these  houses,  dears,”  said  the 
mothei',  who  was  bustling  forward  as  fast  as  she  could. 

“No,  indeed,”  replied  the  other  daughter,  who  found 
time  to  curl  her  lip  with  disdain,  notwithstanding  her  haste 
and  her  distress,  “I’ll  not  set  a foot  in  such  filthy  hovels.” 

“ Well,  dears,  here  is  a comfortable,  tidy  place,”  cried 
the  mother  at  length,  as  they  hastened  forward ; “ here  I’ll 
enter,  nor  will  I stir  till  the  rain  is  over ; come  in,  girls, 
come  in.  You  might  eat  off  these  boards,  they  are  so 
clean.” 

The  rain  was  now  coming  down  in  torrents,  and  the  two 
young  ladies  gladly  followed  their  mother’s  example,  and 
entered  the  neat  and  cleanly  dwelling.  Their  long  haii- 
hung  dangling  about  their  ears,  their  crape  bonnets  had 
been  screened  in  vain  by  their  fringed  parasols,  and  the 
skirts  of  their  silk  srowns  were  drawled  with  mud.  Thev 

o oo  , * 

all  three  began  to  stamp  upon  the  floor  of  the  room  into 
which  they  had  entered  with  veiy  little  ceremony ; but  the 
good-natured  mistress  of  the  house  felt  more  for  their  dis- 
aster than  for  her  floor,  and  came  forward  at  once  to  console 


THE  FOOLS’  PENCE. 


7 


and  assist  them.  She  brought  forth  clean  cloths  from  the 
dresser-drawer,  and  she  and  her  two  daughters  set  to  work 
to  wipe  off,  with  quick  and  delicate  care,  the  rain-drops 
and  mud-splashes  from  the  silken  dresses  of  the  three  fine 
ladies.  The  crape  hats  and  tlie  parasols  were  carefully 
dried  at  a safe  distance  from  the  fire,  and  a comb  was  offered 
to  arrange  the  uncurled  hair,  such  a white  and  delicately 
clean  comb  as  may  seldom  be  seen  upon  a poor  woman’s 
toilet. 

When  all  had  been  done  that  could  be  done,  and,  as 
Miss  Lucy  said,  “they  began  to  look  themselves  again,” 
Mrs.  Crowder,  who  was  lolling  back  at  her  ease  in  a large 
and  comfortable  arm-chair,  and  amusing  herself  by  taking 
a good  stare  at  every  thing  and  every  one  in  the  room,  sud- 
denly started  forward,  and  cried  out,  addressing  herself  to 
the  master  of  the  house,  upon  whose  Bible  and  at  whose 
face  she  had  been  last  fixing  her  gaze,  “ Why,  my  good 
man,  we  are  old  friends : I know  your  face,  I’m  certain ; 
still,  there  is  some  change  in  you,  though  I can’t  exactly 
say  what  it  is.” 

“I  used  to  be  in  ragged  clothes,  and  out  of  health,” 
said  George  Manly,  smiling,  as  he  looked  up  from  his 
Bible ; “ I am  now,  blessed  be  God  for  it,  comfortably  clad, 
and  in  excellent  health.” 

“But  how  is  it,”  said  Mrs.  Crowder,  “that  wm  never 
catch  a sight  of  you  now  ?” 

“Madam,”  said  he,  “I’m  sure  I wish  well  to  you  and 
all  people ; nay,  I have  reason  to  thank  you,  for  words  of 
yours  were  the  first  means  of  opening  my  eyes  to  my  own 
foolish  and  sinful  course.  You  seem  to  thrive — so  do  we. 
My  wife  and  children  were  half-naked  and  half-starved  only 
this  time  last  year.  Look  at  them,  if  you  please,  now ; for, 
so  far  as  sweet,  contented  looks  go,  and  decent  raiment 
befitting  their  station.  I’ll  match  them  with  any  man’s  wife 
and  children.  And  now,  madam,  I tell  you,  as  you  told  a 
friend  of  ymurs  one  day  last  year,  that  ‘ ’tis  the  fools’ 
PENCE  which  have  done  all  this  for  us.’  The  fools’  pence ! 
I ought  to  say,  the  pence  earned  by  honest  industry,  and 
spent  in  such  a manner  that  I can  ask  the  blessing  of  God 
upon  the  pence.” 

When  Mrs.  Crowder  and  her  daughters  were  gone, 
George  Manly  sat  without  speaking  for  some  considerable 


8 


THE  FOOLS'  PENCE. 


time.  He  was  deep  in  thought,  and  ins  gentle,  pious  wife 
felt  that  she  knew  on  what  subject  he  had  been  thinking 
so  deeply ; for  when  he  woke  up  from  his  fit  of  thought,  a 
deep  sigh  stole  from  his  lips,  and  he  brushed  away  the 
tears  which  had  filled  his  eyes. 

“ Susan,”  he  said,  “ what  can  I render  to  the  Lord  for 
all  his  goodness  to  me  ? From  what  a fearful  depth  of  ruin 
have  I been  snatched  ! Once  I met  some  of  my  old  com- 
panions, who  so  set  upon  me  to  draw  me  to  drink  with  them, 
that  1 thought  Satan  must  have  urged  them  on.  Another 
time,  I went  walking  on,  and  found  myself  at  the  door  of 
the  poison-shop,  Avithout  knowing  how  I got  there ; but 
God  gave  me  strength  to  turn  instantly  awa}-,  and  not 
linger  a moment  to  dally  with  temptation. 

“ I could  irot  help  thinking,  as  I AAms  reading  this  hoi)* 
book,  Avhen  that  showy  dame  came  in  from  Avhose  hand  I 
so  often  took  the  poisonous  cup,  hoAv  much  I owed  to  God 
for  saving  me  from  ruin,  and  giving  me  that  peace  and 
satisfaction  in  religion  Avhich  I now  enjoy ; and  making 
me,  I hope,  a blessing  to  you  all.  0,  Avhat  a love  was  the 
love  of  Christ  to  poor  sinners  ! He  gave  his  OAvn  blood  as 
our  precious  ransom ; he  came  to  save  us  from  our  sins, 
that  Ave  may  serve  him  in  newness  of  life.” 

The’  above  history,  AA'hich  is  taken  from  a Tract  of  the 
Religious  Tract  Society  in  London,  has  its  counterpart  in 
the  case  of  multitudes  in  our  OAvn  country.  Let  him  who 
would  not  shorten  his  da)-s,  and  make  his  family  Avretched, 
and  ruin  his  OAvn  soul,  resolve  Avith  George  Manly,  “ never 
again  to  ‘put  the  intoxicating  glass  to  his  lips;”  and  like 
him,  let  him  go  humbly  and  with  childlike  confidence  to 
God  for  strength  to  keep  his  resolution,  and  for  grace  to 
pardon  all  his  sins,  through  the  blood  and  righteousness  of 
Christ.  Then  shall  he  have  peace  of  mind,  and  be  a 
blessing  in  his  day ; and  when  this  brief  life  is  ended,  he 
shall  enter  into  eternal  joy. 


PUBLISHED  BY  THE  A5IERIC.AN  TRACT  SOCIETY. 


THE 


POOR  MAN’S  HOUSE  REPAIREDi 


OR, 

THE  WRETCHED  MADE  HAPPY. 


A NARRATIVE  OF  FACTS. 


For  fifteen  years  of  my  married  life  1 was  as  miserable 
as  any  woman  could  be.  Our  house  was  the  picture  of 
wretchedness  externally,  and  it  looked  still  more  wretched 
within.  The  windows  were  patched,  the  walls  shattered, 
the  furniture  defaced  and  broken,  and  every  thing  was  going 
to  rums. 

It  had  not  always  been  so ; for,  once  my  home  was  happy, 
and  I used  to  take  much  pleasure  and  some  pride  in  hearing 

the  neighbors  say,  “How  neat  and  trim  neighbor  N ’s 

liouse  always  looks !”  But  they  could  not  say  so  long. 


2 


THE  POOR  MAN’S  HOUSE  REPAIRED. 


One  thing  after  another  changed.  Oar  table  ivas  no  longer 

o o o 

spread  with  comfortable  food,  nor  surrounded  with  cheer- 
ful faces  ; but  there  were  scant}'  meals,  sour  looks,  and  loud 
and  angry  words ; while,  do  the  best  I could,  I was  not 
able  to  conceal  the  tatters  of  my  own  and  my  children’s 
clothing.  My  husband  is  a mechanic ; his  employment  is 
good,  and  he  might  have  made  his  family  as  happy  as  any 
family  in  the  place ; but  he  was  in  the  habit  of  taking  ardent 
spirit  every  day.  He  thought  it  did  him  good  ; I knew  it 
did  not,  for  I found  him  every  day  more  and  more  unkind. 
Our  comfoi'ts,  one  by  one,  vrere  stripped  away,  till  at  last  I 
saw  myself  the  wife  of  a confirmed  drunkard. 

I well  remember,  one  evening,  I was  sitting  by  the  fire, 
mending  my  poor  boy’s  tattered  jacket.  My  heart  was 
very  sad.  I had  been  thinking  of  the  happy  evenings  I 
had  spent  with  my  husband  before  our  marriage ; of  the 
few  pleasant  years  that  succeeded ; of  the  misery  that  then 
came  ; of  the  misery  yet  to  come  ; and  for  me  there  seemed 
no  ray  of  hope  or  comfort.  My  husband  was  a terror  to 
his  family,  and  a nuisance  to  the  neighborhood ; my  chil- 
dren were  idle,  ragged,  and  disobedient ; myself  a heart- 
broken wife  and  wretched  mother.  While  I thought  of  all 
this,  I could  no  longer  retain  my  composure,  but,  dropping 
my  work,  I leaned  my  head  upon  my  hand  and  wept  bit- 
terly. My  husband  had  been  absent  all  day,  and  I was 
now  expecting  him  home  every  minute.  It  was  growing 
late,  so  I wiped  away  my  tears  as  well  as  I could,  and  put 
the  embers  together,  to  make  my  fireside  look  as  inviting  as 
possible.  But  I dreaded  my  husband’s  return — his  sharp 
voice  and  bitter  words  pained  me  to  the  heart,  and  rougher 
treatment  than  all  this  I often  experienced  from  him  who 
had  once  been  to  me  all  that  I could  wish. 

At  length  the  door  opened,  and  Robert  entered.  I saw 
by  his  flushed  countenance  and  angry  expression  that  I had 
better  remain  silent ; so,  with  a sinking  heart,  I placed  a 
chair  for  him  by  the  fire,  and  continued  my  work  without 
speaking. 

Robert  broke  silence,  and  in  a sharp  tone  said,  What 


THE  POOR  MAN’S  HOUSE  REPAIRED. 


3 


on  earth  do  you  sit  there  for,  at  work  on  that  dirt}"  rag  ? 
Why  don’t  you  give  me  something  to  eat  ?”  and  snatching 
the  work  roughly  from  my  hands,  he  threw  it  into  the  fire. 
I sprang  forward  to  rescue  my  poor  child’s  garment,  and 
so  quick  were  my  movements,  that  I saved  it  from  much 
injury.  But  while  I was  shaking  the  ashes  from  it,  my 
husband  again  snatched  it  from  my  hands,  and  with  a ter- 
rible oath,  defying  me  to  touch  it,  once  more  threw  it  into 
the  fire.  I was  afraid  to  attempt  to  save  it ; so  I turned 

away,  with  bitter  feelings  to  see  my  labor  all  lost,  and  my 

destitute  child  made  still  more  destitute  by  its  father’s  hand. 
But,  as  patiently  and  kindly  as  I could,  I set  before  Robert 
the  supper  I had  prepared  for  him.  It  did  not  look  very 
inviting,  to  be  sure ; but  I could  offer  nothing  more.  He 
swore  he  would  not  taste  a particle.  I now  reproached  him 
for  not  having  provided  any  thing  better  for  myself  and 
children.  But  this  was  no  time  for  reproach.  Robert’s 
anger  rose  to  the  highest  pitch.  He  dashed  the  cup  and 
plate  I had  placed  for  him  to  the  floor,  and  seizing  me 

roughly  by  the  arm,  he  opened  the  door,  and  forcing  me 

from  the  dwelling,  bid  me  enter  again,  if  I dared.  The 
night  was  cold  and  windy.  I was  thinly  dressed,  and  even 

ill.  But  I forbore  to  take  refuge  under  a neighbor’s  roof. 

o o 

My  heart  was  too  sad  and  desolate  to  admit  of  human  con- 
solation. At  this  sorrowful  moment  I remembered  that 

“ Earth  hatli  no  sorrow  that  heaven  cannot  heal 

SO,  falling  almost  unconsciously  upon  my  knees,  I prayed 
that  God  would  comfort  my  stricken  heart ; that  my  sins 
might  be  pardoned ; that  I might  be  enabled  to  repose  all 
my  griefs  in  the  bosom  of  that  gracious  One  who  has  kindly 
promised  to  give  the  heavy-laden  rest.  I then  prayed  for 
my  miserable  husband,  that  God  would  have  mercy  upon 
him,  and  deliver  him  from  his  dreadful  delusion  before  it 
was  too  late.  I prayed,  too,  for  my  poor  children,  with  all 
the  fervor  of  a mother’s  soul.  This  was  the  first  prayer  I 
had  offered  for  years  ; for  I had  been  an  impenitent  woman. 
Had  I prayed  sooner,  I might  have  saved  myself  much 


4 


THE  POOR  MAN’S  HOUSE  REPAIRED. 


sorrow  and  distress.  But  as  it  was,  I arose  from  my  knees 
with  feelings  far  less  hopeless  and  bitter.  I then  crept 
back  to  the  house,  and  on  looking  in  at  the  window,  I found 
that  Robert  had  fallen  asleep  ; so  I opened  the  door  quietly, 
without  disturbing  his  heavy  slumbers,  and  laid  myself 
down  to  rest. 

The  events  of  this  evening  were  no  uncommon  events 
to  me.  Each  succeeding  day  brought  hut  the  same  rough 
treatment,  the  same  wretchedness  and  want.  Robert  grew 
worse  and  worse.  He  not  only  destroyed  all  our  peace, 
but  brought  noise  and  discord  into  the  whole  neighborhood, 
till  at  last,  for  the  sake  of  quiet,  he  was  taken  to  the  house 
of  correction.  I never  can  forget  that  dreadful  night  when 
he  was  carried  away.  He  came  home  shockingly  intoxi- 
cated. The  little  children  crept  into  the  farthest  corner  of 
the  house  to  shield  themselves  from  his  fury.  He  threat- 
ened every  thing  with  destruction.  I was  in  danger  of  my 
life,  and  ran  for  safety  into  the  nearest  house,  where  a poor 
widow  lived.  Robert  followed — we  fastened  the  door — he 
swore  he  would  set  fire  to  the  building,  and  burn  it  over 
our  heads.  But  some  one  passing  by  heard  the  uproar,  and 
went  for  the  town  officers.  Several  of  them  came,  just  as 
my  infatuated  husband  was  pelting  the  window  with  stones. 
They  took  him  away  by  force,  while  he  was  uttering  the 
most  shocking  oaths.  I sat  down  and  wept  with  shame  and 
vexation.  My  little  Jane  put  her  arm  round  my  neck,  and 
said,  “Don’t  cry,  ma — he  has  gone — wicked  pa  has  gone, 
and  I hope  he  will  never  come  back — he  is  so  cross,  and 
beats  us  so.”  I hardly  knew  what  to  say  in  answer  to  my 
little  girl,  but  I felt  that  it  was  a dreadful  thing  to  have  my 
children  speak  so  of  him  whom  I would  gladly  have  taught 
them  to  love  and  honor. 

I determined,  now  my  husband  was  away,  to  support 
my  family  by  my  own  work  ; for  wretched  as  my  home  was, 
I could  not  bear  to  leave  it  and  come  upon  the  town.  I 
could  not  earn  much,  for  my  health  was  feeble,  but  I man- 
aged, by  depriving  myself  of  several  meals,  to  save  enough 
to  mend  my  poor  neighbor’s  window. 


THE  POOR  MAN’S  HOUSE  REPAIRED.  5 

But  Robert  longed  to  regain  his  liberty.  He  resolved 
that  he  would  do  better,  and  upon  promising  orderly  con- 
duct, was  permitted  to  return  to  bis  family.  Badly  as  be 
had  treated  me,  I was  glad  to  see  him  back  again.  He 
looked  bumble,  and  spoke  to  me  kindly.  He  kissed  the 
younger  children,  too,  and  for  a while  every  thing  went  on 
smoothly.  To  me  it  seemed  like  the  dawning  of  better 
days,  and  when  Robert  one  evening  brought  home  some 
new  shoes  for  our  oldest  boy,  and  a new  gown  for  my  little 
Jane,  I actually  Avept  for  joy,  and  Jane  said,  her  “rvicked 
pa  had  come  back  very  good.” 

But  these  bright  days  rvere  not  to  last.  Darker  ones 
came,  darker  than  I had  ever  known  before,  or  perhaps  they 
seemed  darker,  from  the  transient  sunshine  that  had  gleamed 
upon  us.  I again  heard  my  children  crying  for  food,  when 
I had  no  food  to  give  them.  I rvas  again  often  turned  from 
my  dwelling,  or,  if  I offered  any  resistance,  was  forced  to 
receive  harsh  words  and  cruel  blorvs.  But  it  is  in  vain  to 
tell  all  I suffered.  Many  have  gone  through  the  same  fiery 
trial,  and  will  feel  that  a recital  of  my  woes  is  but  a recital 
of  Avhat  they  too  have  borne. 

There  Avas  one  privilege,  the  Avant  of  which  I at  this 
time  felt  deeply.  The  village  church  was  within  sight  of 
our  door.  I used  to  hear  the  bell  ring,  and  see  the  children 
of  the  neighborhood  go  by,  neatly  dressed,  to  the  Sabbath- 
school  ; but  I had  no  gOAvn,  nor  bonnet,  nor  shawl  fit  to 
wear,  and  my  children  Avere  still  more  destitute  than  myself. 
So  Ave  were  obliged  to  spend  the  Sahbath  in  sadness  at 
home,  Avhile  Robert,  if  the  day  Avas  fine,  would  profane  it 
by  going  on  the  water  to  fish,  or  Avould  linger  Avith  his 
companions  round  the  door  of  the  grogshop — not  to  enter, 
it  is  true ; for  the  dram-seller,  Avith  his  wife  and  children, 
dressed  very  fine,  and  were  accustomed  to  attend  church ; 
and  but  for  that  dreadful  shop,  I might  have  gone  there 
too. 

Our  minister  was  one  of  those  Avho  thought  it  his  duty 
to  “ reason  on  temperance,”  as  well  as  “righteousness,”  and 
“judgment  to  come  and  through  his  exertions,  and  the 
VOL.  IX. 


6 


THE  POOR  MAN’S  HOUSE  REPAIRED. 


e.xertions  of  other  good  men,  a reform  had  commenced, 
which  gave  great  encouragement  to  tlie  friends  of  human 
happiness  and  virtue.  Temperance-meetings  were  held 
once  a month  in  different  parts  of  the  torni,  and  in  spite  of 
much  opposition,  and  many  prophecies  to  the  contrary,  the 
cause  went  on. 

I heard  much  said  about  these  meetings,  and  resolved  to 
attend  the  next ; so,  when  the  evening  came,  I borrowed  a 
cloak  and  bonnet  of  one  of  the  neighbors,  and  hastened  to 
the  church.  The  prayers  I there  heard  did  my  wounded 
spirit  good,  and  the  plain,  impressive  language  of  the  min- 
ister spoke  to  my  very  heart.  I resolved  to  persuade  my 
husband,  if  possible,  to  go  with  me  when  there  should  be 
another  meeting. 

A circumstance  occurred  about  this  time  that  quite  de- 
stroyed my  remaining  courage,  and  almost  caused  me  to 
give  Robert  up  for  lost.  We  lived  in  a small,  shabby-look- 
ing  house,  a part  of  which  he  rented  to  a very  poor  family. 
They  could  not  pay  the  rent  immediately  upon  its  being  due. 
It  was  in  the  depth  of  winter,  and  the  poor  woman  had  a 
little  infant,  not  more  than  two  weeks  old.  But  Robert’s 
heart  was  shut  to  all  kind  feelings.  One  very  stormy  day 
he  drove  the  whole  family  out  of  doors,  and  they  were 
obliged  to  seek  some  other  dwelling.  It  was  too  much  for 
the  poor  woman  in  her  feeble  state.  She  caught  a severe 
cold,  and  died  in  a few  days.  After  this  heartless  act,  my 
faith  quite  failed  me,  and  I felt  as  if  nothing  coidd  recall  my 
husband  to  a sense  of  duty.  But  I little  knew  the  workings 
of  his  mind.  He  seemed  to  I’eturn  a little  to  his  senses, 
when  he  saw  that  his  cruelty  had  probably  caused  the  death 
of  the  poor  woman,  and  rendered  a large  family  of  helpless 
children  motherless.  His  countenance  became  more  dark 
and  gloomy,  and  he  scarcely  raised  his  eyes  to  notice  any 
one. 

Things  were  in  this  state,  when  one  day  our  minister 
called,  as  he  was  visiting  the  people  of  his  parish.  I was 
very  glad  to  see  him,  and  told  him  all  my  griefs  freely.  He 
gave  me  what  consolation  he  could,  and  infonued  me  that 


THE  POOR  MAN’S  HOUSE  REPAIRED. 


7 


there  was  another  temperance-meeting  in  the  evening,  which 
he  hoped  I would  attend;  “and,”  added  he,  “bring  your 
husband  along  with  you,  if  you  can  persuade  him  to  come.” 

When  Robert  came  home  to  supper,  I was  surprised  and 
delighted  to  find  him  sober;  so  I told  him  of  the  minister’s 
visit,  and  the  meeting  in  the  evening.  He  seemed  pleased 
that  the  minister  had  called,  and  even  asked  me  how  things 
looked  about  the  room,  “for,”  said  he,  “we  don’t  look  quite 
so  stylish  here  as  we  once  did,  Mary.” 

“ No,  Robert,”  said  I,  with  a sigh,  as  I surveyed  the 
wretched  apartment ; “ but  if  you  would  attend  the  tem- 
perance-meeting, and  hear  what  the  minister  says  about 
saving  money,  I think  it  woiild  soon  look  much  better  hei'e, 
and  the  boys  might  have  better  jackets,  and  I might  have  a 
better  gown.  Oh,  Robert” — 

I would  have  said  more,  but  my  eyes  filled  with  tears, 
and  I could  not.  Robert  hung  down  his  head,  and  looked 
ashamed.  He  knew  he  had  spent,  for  rum,  money  enough 
to  feed  and  clothe  his  family  well.  I thought  he  had  half 
a mind  to  tell  me  he  would  go  with  me.  When  I had  cleared 
away  the  supper,  and  sent  the  children  to  bed,  I put  on  my 
bonnet,  and  said,  “I  will  just  step  into  neighbor  Warren’s, 
and  borrow  Nancy’s  cloak.” 

“ Have  not  you  any  cloak  of  your  own  ?”  said  he. 

“ No,”  I replied,  “ I have  been  without  one  a long  time.” 

Robert  said  no  more,  but  when  I came  back  with  the 
cloak,  and  said  to  him,  “Will  you  go  with  me?”  he  said, 
in  a tone  which  seemed  as  if  he  were  trying  to  suppress 
kinder  feelings,  “ Go  along,  Mary,  and  don’t  be  always  fret- 
ting about  me.”  I was  grieved,  but  said  nothing,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  the  meeting  alone,  praying  that  Robert  might 
think  better  of  it,  and  come.  The  services  were  even  more 
interesting  than  they  had  been  at  the  preceding  meeting. 
The  minister  said  every  thing  to  convince,  and  I felt  a dis- 
tressing anxiety,  that  I could  not  control,  to  have  my  hus- 
band hear  all  that  was  said.  Judge,  then,  of  my  surprise 
and  pleasure,  when,  a short  time  after  I had  returned  home, 
Robert  entered,  and  said,  “ Guess  where  I have  been,  Mary.” 


8 


THE  POOR  MAN’S  HOUSE  REPAIRED. 


“ Not  to  meeting,  Robert.” 

“Yes,  Mary,  to  meeting.  I took  up  my  hat  after  you 
had  gone,  thinking  that  I would  go  down  to  the  shop  ; for  I 
felt  uneasy,  and  wanted  something  to  suppress  my  disagree- 
able thoughts.  But  as  I passed  by  the  meeting-house,  it 
was  so  well  lighted  up,  and  the  hell  was  ringing,  and  the 
people  going  in,  I thought  perhaps  I had  better  go  in  too ; 
and  I am  glad  I did.  AVife,  I do  believe  the  minister  is 
right.  I know  that  hard  drinking  has  been  the  ruin  of 
myself  and  family,  and  while  the  minister  was  speaking,  I 
thought  I would  try  to  break  away  from  my  had  habits.” 

“ 0,  Robert,  will  you  try?"  I exclaimed,  while  my  heart 
beat  with  pleasure  to  hear  him  thus  speak. 

“ ’Tis  hard  work,  Mary,  harder  than  you  think  for.” 

“ I know  it  is  hard,  my  dear  husband  ; but  only  think  of 
the  happiness  it  would  bring  to  us  all — of  the  ruin  from 
which  it  will  save  our  little  hoys — the  agOny  from  which  it 
will  save  your  poor  wife.  0,  Robert,  if  you  have  one  spark 
of  love  remaining  in  your  bosom  for  any  of  us  ” — 

I could  not  go  on ; but  leaning  my  hands  upon  my  hus- 
band’s shoulder,  I sobbed  aloud.  , 

Robert  seemed  affected,  and  said,  in  a doubtful  tone, 
“ Pei’haps  I might  leave  it  off  by  degrees.” 

“0  no,  Robert,  no,”  I answered,  “that  will  never  do. 
Don’t  you  remember  how  particular  the  minister  was  to  say, 
‘Leave  it  off  at  once?"  You  will  never  do  it  by  degrees.” 

Robert  looked  steadily  into  the  fire,  and  did  not  say  one 
word  more.  AYhen  not  under  the  influence  of  strong  drink, 
he  is  a man  of  good  sense,  and  I thought  it  better  to  leave 
him  to  his  own  reflections.  I know  not  what  passed  through 
his  mind.  The  kinder  and  better  feelings  of  other  days 
seemed  to  be  awakened  from  their  slumber,  or  rather.  He 
from  whom  “all  just  thoughts  and  holy  desires  proceed,” 
was  influencing  his  determination.  As  for  myself,  I longed 
in  secret  to  pour  out  my  soul  to  God.  So  I went  into  the 
bedroom,  where  my  poor  children  were  fast  asleep ; and 
after  seeing  that  they  were  well  covered  up,  I kissed  each 
one  of  them,  and  knelt  down  by  their  side  to  offer  up  my 


TilE  POOR  MAN’S  HOUSE  REPAIRED. 


9 


prayer.  I prayed  as  I had  never  done  before.  I seemed, 
tlirough  my  Redeemer,  to  gain  a nearer  and  bolder  access 
to  the  throne  of  grace.  My  heart  was  tilled  with  deep  grat- 
itude, penitence,  humility,  and  joy;  and  from  that  hour  I 
have  dared  to  hope  myself  a child  of  God.  0 that  blessed, 
blessed  night  It  caused  joy  among  the  angels  in  heaven, 
over  the  reconciliation  of  one  soul  to  God — over  the  desire 
of  another  soul  to  return  to  the  path  of  duty.  It  caused 
joy  on  earth,  in  our  poor,  humble  dwelling — ^joy  in  the  bosom 
of  the  long-afflicted  wife — ^joy  that  her  own  soul  was  trust- 
ing in  Christ — ^joy  that  her  husband  was  purposing  to  for- 
sake his  M’retched  way,  and  turn  into  a happier,  better  path. 

The  next  day,  before  Robert  went  out,  I encouraged  him 
all  I could  to  persevere.  I brought  to  his  remembrance  as 
much  of  the  lecture  as  I could,  so  that  it  mio’ht  be  fresh  in 
his  mind.  He  left  me  in  good  spirits,  and  promised  to  see 
me  again  at  night  a sober  man.  But  0,  what  an  anxious 
day  was  it  for  me  ! I dreaded,  and  yet  longed  for  evening 
to  come,  and  my  heart  beat  as  I heard  his  footstep  at  the 
door.  But  he  had  kept  his  word — he  had  not  tasted  a drop 
of  spirit  during  the  day.  He  had  seen,  too,  the  minister  and 
several  members  of  the  Temperance  Society.  In  conse- 
quence of  the  meeting  on  the  last  evening,  many  new  names 
were  added  to  the  temperance  list,  and  they  had  promised, 
in  case  of  entire  abstinence  till  the  next  meeting,  to  receive 
his.  I could  scarcely  believe  my  senses  when  I heard  my 
husband  speak  thus,  and  the  prospect  of  his  becoming  a 
sober  man  seemed  too  delightful  to  be  ever  realized.  For 
a time,  I rejoiced  with  trembling;  but  when,  day  after  day, 
I saw  him  return  orderly  and  quiet,  my  courage  revived, 
and  I felt  that  he  would  persevere. 

At  length  the  evening  came  round  for  the  next  meeting, 
and  my  husband  and  myself  went,  0 so  happy ! and  put 
our  names  to  the  pledge.  What  a different  prospect  did 
our  home  now  present.  I could  not  keep  my  countenance 
for  joy,  when  the  neighbors  came  in  to  congratulate  me  on 
the  change.  I could  now  dress  my  children  neat  and  com- 
fortable, and  send  them  to  the  Sabbath-school.  I went  my- 


10 


THE  POOR  MAN’S  HOUSE  REPAIRED. 


self  with  my  husband  constantly  to  church,  and  on  making 
known  my  wish  to  our  minister,  publicly  professed  my  faith 
in  the  Saviour  of  sinners.  Thus  happily  did  the  winter  and 
summer  pass  away.  One  day  in  autumn,  as  the  minister 
was  passing  by,  my  husband  was  in  the  road  in  front  of  the 
house. 

The  minister  remarked,  “ I am  glad,  Robert,  to  see  your 
house  repaired  and  looking  so  well.” 

“ Thank  you,  sir ; why,  it  does  look  some  better.”  As 
the  minister  was  about  to  pass  on,  Robert  added,  “ Mr.  G., 
I have  not  drank  a drop  of  rum  for  one  year,  come  next 
Monday.  So  you  see  the  effect  upon  my  house.  I used  to 
work  hard  before,  and  spent  about  all  1 earned  for  rum,  to 
drink  myself,  or  to  give  away.  Many  a time  I have  been 
at  my  work  on  a Sunday,  and  earned  a dollar  or  more  in 
the  course  of  the  day,  and  taken  the  mone)',  and  then  laid 
out  the  whole  in  rum.  Now  I can  clothe  mi'  family  well, 
and  have  something  to  lay  out  upon  m3"  house.  Last  sum- 
mer, my  boy  and  I saved  sixt}"  dollars  besides  supporting 
the  family.” 

Sixt}’  dollars  saved ! But  who  can  tell  the  value  of  the 
happ3"  da}’S  and  nights  of  this  year  ; or  the  worth  of  a 
kind,  sober,  industrious  husband  and  father,  compared  with 
a cross,  cruel,  and  drunken  one  ? Ask  the  wife  ; what 
would  she  tell  you  ? Ask  the  children ; what  would  be 
their  answer  ? 

Some  of  my  husband’s  former  wicked  companions  felt 
piqued  and  envious  that  Robert  was  free  from  their  degrad- 
ing habit.  The}'^  saw  him  thriving,  respected,  and  happy. 
His  life  and  prospects  were  a continued  reflection  upon  theirs. 
They  longed  to  see  him  fall,  and  determined,  if  possible,  to 
effect  his  ruin.  As  he  was  quietly  returning  home  one  even- 
ing, he  passed  b}"  the  shop  which  he  was  once  so  much  in 
the  habit  of  frequenting.  The}*  accosted  him : bt"  taunts 
and  jeers  which  he  had  not  firmness  enough  to  resist,  thev 
drew  him  into  their  company.  Once  there,  the}'  thought 
him  within  their  power.  AVhen  they  could  not  induce  him 
to  violate  his  pledge  b)'  taking  rum,  the3"  called  him  a “ cold- 


THE  POOR  MAN’S  HOUSE  REPAIRED. 


11 


waterman;”  “ a white-livered  coward;”  “priest-ridden;” 
“ afraid  of  his  minister,”  and  many  other  titles  of  reproach. 
They  then  told  him  he  had  not  promised  to  drink  no  wine ; 
and,  after  much  persuasion,  they  induced  him  to  take  a glass. 
But  in  this  glass  they  had  mingled  the  poison.  Once  stim- 
rdated,  he  called  for  more  and  yet  more,  till  these  wretches 
had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  him  who  had  so  long  stood  firm, 
reeling  from  the  shop,  to  mar  at  once  all  that  was  pleasant 
and  peaceful  at  home.  When  my  husband  did  not  return 
at  supper-time,  I felt  rather  anxious,  but  thought  he  might 
be  delayed,  as  he  sometimes  is ; so  I put  his  supper  to  the 
fire  and  sat  dowm  to  my  knitting-work,  wdiile  one  of  the 
bo3’s  read  to  me  from  his  Sabbath-school  book. 

We  were  thus  employed  when  my  deluded  husband  en- 
tered. 0 the  agony  of  that  moment ! Had  he  been  brought 
to  me  a corpse,  1 could  not  have  been  more  shocked.  Had 
those  wicked  men  that  thus  seduced  my  husband  entered 
my  house  and  done  the  same  things  that  they  caused  him 
to  do,  they  might  have  been  indicted  for  the  outrage.  In 
the  morning  Robert  had  come  to  himself ; but  he  saw  in  the 
broken  furniture,  in  the  distrustful  looks  of  the  children,  in 
the  swollen  eyes  and  distressed  countenance  of  his  wife,  more 
tlian  he  cared  to  know.  There  was  a mixture  of  remorse 
and  obstinac}’  in  his  looks,  and  when  he  left  me  for  the 
morning,  instead  of  his  usual  “ Good-morning,  Mary,”  he 
shut  the  door  roughly  after  him  and  hurried  away. 

When  evening  came  again,  Robert  returned  to  the  shop, 
and  asked  for  a glass  of  rum.  He  wanted  something  to 
stifle  the  keen  reproaches  of  conscience.  The  dram-seller 
knew  my  husband,  knew  of  his  reform,  that  from  being  a 
nuisance  to  the  town,  he  had  become  an  orderly  and  re- 
spectable citizen  ; and  now  that  he  had  been  seduced  from 
the  right  way,  instead  of  denying  him  the  cause  of  all  our 
former  misery — instead  of  a little  friendly  advice — with  his 
'usual  courteous  smile,  he  put  the  fatal  glass  into  his  hand. 

F or  a time  my  poor  Robert  continued  in  a very  bad  way. 
He  mingled  again  with  his  profane  and  wicked  associates ; 
he  was  ashamed  to  see  his  minister,  and  took  no  notice  of 


12 


THE  POOR  MAN’S  HOUSE  REPAIRED. 


him  when  he  passed  ; hung  down  his  head  when  he  met 
an}^  of  his  temperance  friends,  and  seemed  to  be  fast  re- 
turning to  his  former  miserable  habits. 

■But  he  was  not  thus  to  become  the  dupe  of  wicked  and 
designing  men.  His  wife’s  prayers  and  tears  were  not  thus 
to  be  of  no  avail.  On  a sudden  he  awoke  from  his  delusion. 
He  had  lived  a whole  year  without  rum ; and  though  ex- 
posed to  all  weathers,  he  knew  his  health  had  been  better, 
his  head  clearer,  his  nerves  firmer,  his  purse  heavier,  and 
his  home  happier.  He  called  one  evening  to  see  the  Presi- 
dent of  the  Temperance  Society ; confessed  his  weakness  in 
yielding  to  temptation ; asked  the  forgiveness  of  the  Society; 
requested  to  have  his  name,  which  had  been  erased  from 
the  temperance  list,  renewed ; and  promised  never  again  to 
violate  the  pledge.  Since  that  night  mj'^  husband  has  con- 
tinued a perfectly  temperate  man.  No  temptation  has  ever 
led  him  again  to  violate  his  pledge. 

I have  been  induced  to  give  this  histor)’  of  his  reform. to 
the  Avorld,  in  order,  if  possible,  to  persuade  others  to  follow 
his  example,  to  show  them  how  quiet  and  plenty  were  re- 
stored to  a wretched  dwelling,  virtue  and  respectability  to 
a ruined  family,  and  the  ^roor  man’s  house  repaired. 


A clergyman,  worthy  of  all  confidence,  and  acquainted  with  the 
writer  of  the  above,  and  the  circumstances  detailed,  testifies,  that  the 
case  is  “ literally  ana  faithfully  described.” 


JAMIE  ; 


OR, 


A VOICE  FROM  IRELAND  FOR  TEMPERANCE. 

A TRUE  NARRATIVE. 

BY  PROFESSOR  EDGAR, 

OF  BELFAST. 


In  a populous  and  civilized  district  of  Ulster  lived 
Jamie,  a day-laborer;  a fellow  of  right  good  sense  and 
practical  talent,  carpenter  and  mason,  shoemaker  and  black- 
smith, and  aught  else  the  case  required.  The  variety  of 
his  powers  had  nearly  ruined  him.  On  all  hands  he  was 
in  requisition,  and  everywhere  he  was  a favorite — kindness 
flowing  to  him  in  its  common  channel,  spirituous  liquor. 
Wherever  he  went,  he  was  treated.  This  was  too  much  for 
flesh  and  blood,  and  Jamie  became,  in  the  style  of  the 
world’s  false  charity,  “ fond  of  the  drop.”  His  cash  flew 
to  the  spirit-shop,  and  brought  neither  health  nor  happi- 
ness in  return.  The  neighbors  called  him — alas,  for  such 
lullabies  to  conscience! — ati  honest,  good-hearted  fellow, 
who  did  nobody  any  harm  but  himself.  While,  however, 
they  tempted,  and  flattered,  and  deceived,  their  victim  was 
posting  to  ruin. 

But,  while  moderate  drinkers  were  training  him  to 
drunkenness,  God  was  raising  up  the  Temperance  Society 
as  an  ark  of  safety  to  him  from  the  flood  of  their  tempta- 
tions. One  of  the  publications  of  the  Ulster  Temperance 

Teinp.  Vol.  13 


•2 


JAMIE,  A TRUE  STORY. 


Society  fell  into  his  hands,  and  he  read  it,  for  he  was  of  an 
inquiring  spirit,  and  a blessing  attended  it.  What,  said  he, 
in  amazement,  can  this  be  true? — distilled  spirits  of  no 
more  use  to  any  man  in  health  than  arsenic  or  opium? 
“Distilled  spirits  are  too  tempting,  and  dangerous,  and  vio- 
lently intoxicating,  to  be  used  as  a common  beverage  at 
all !”  0,  thought  he,  that  at  least  is  true.  “ Distilled  spirits 
are  in  their  very  nature  injurious  to  the  human  constitu- 
tion ; and  every  man  who  indulges  even  in  their  moderate 
use,  injures  himself  in  proportion  to  the  quantity  which  he 
consumes.”  Jamie  was  astonished,  and  well  he  might  be; 
but  Jamie  was  conscientious,  and  tliough  he  had  the  man- 
hood to  confess,  what  few  moderate  drinkers  will,  that  he 
liked  a glass,  yet,  because  he  had  still  a conscience,  not- 
withstanding the  searing  it  had  got  from  the  fiery  drink,  he 
said  to  himself,  “ I must,  at  least,  try  whether  these  won- 
derful statements  respecting  distilled  spirits  be  true.” 
James  tried,  and  the  effects  were  delightful.  In  a vei-y 
short  time  he  found,  from  happy  experience,  that  his  health 
was  better  from  the  change ; that  his  purse  was  better ; 
that  soul  and  body,  the  whole  man  of  him  was  far  better, 
in  all  respects,  since  he  renounced  the  maddening  draught. 

Ilis  duty  was  now  clear  before  him — to  abstain  from  the 
raging  drink  which,  in  time  past,  had  been  emptying  his 
pocket,  destroying  his  character,  and  bringing  down  his 
body  to  the  grave,  and  his  soul  to  hell.  He  did  his  duty 
in  the  right  way  for  doing  duty — at  once,  and  riyht  on. 

He  saw,  however,  that  something  more  was  incumbent 
on  him  than  merely  doing  his  duty  in  this  particular — he 
must,  for  the  good  of  others,  let  it  be  known,  without  osten- 
tation, that  his  duty  was  done.  Abstaining,  he  said  to 
himself,  has  done  me  good ; the  banishment  of  spirituous 
liquors  would  do  my  country  good ; what  is  every  man’s 
duty  is  my  duty ; and  therefore,  in  love  to  my  brethren, 
I’ll  freely  give  the  blessing  which  to  me  has  been  so  freely 
given.  Union  is  strength,  thought  he:  separate  efforts  are 


JAMIE,  A TRUE  STORY. 


3 


a rope  of  sand ; united,  they  are  the  cable  ivhich  liolds  the 
mighty  ship.  He  resolved  to  establish  a Temperance  So- 
ciety. 

For  this  purpose,  he  supplied  himself  immediately  v/iih 
a number  of  Tracts  on  temperance;  for  Jamie  knew  that 
when  self-interest  or  passion  come  in,  second  thoughts  are 
not  always  best ; and  forthwith  he  commenced  travelling 
around,  reading  them,  at  spare  hours  throughout  the  neigh- 
borhood, Avherever  he  could  find  half-a-dozen  people  to 
listen  to  him.  He  ivas  a good  reader,  and  very  soon  found 
that  his  reading  rvas  not  without  effect  ; for  in  a short  time 
he  heard  of  a decent  rvoman  tellinof  her  neiHibor  to  send 
for  Jamie  to  the  ivake  Avhich  Avas  to  be  held  in  her  house, 
if  she,Avished  to  saAm  her  Avhiskey,  and  have  peace  and 
quietness ; for,  said  she,  he  came  to  the  wake  in  my  house, 
and  read  and  talked  about  temperance,  till  both  the  whiskey 
and  the  people  seemed  either  persuaded  or  frightened,  for 
hardly  one  had  the  courage  to  put  to  his  lips  Avhat  Jamie 
called,  indeed  too  truly,  “ the  accursed  thing.” 

Jamie,  hoAvever,  soon  found  to  lus  cost  that  he  had 
commenced  a very  great  and  a very  sore  work.  The  spirit- 
sellers,  four  of  whom  were  at  a single  cross-roads  in  his 
neighborhood,  he  expected  to  be  against  him,  and  drunk- 
ards he  expected  would  be  against  him  too ; but  he  soon 
found  that  his  chief  opponents  lay  in  quite  another  quarter. 
Sensible  people  soon  began  to  see  that  spirit-sellers  are 
drones  on  the  community,  doing  no  good,  but  much  harm : 
and,  besides,  one  of  them  having  first  alloAved  a temperance 
meeting  to  be  held  in  his  barn,  conscientiously  shut  up  his 
spirit-shop,  and  joined  the  Temperance  Society,  being  con- 
vinced that  spirit-selling  is  poison-selling,  and  that  each 
spirit-shop  might  justly  have  on__its  sign-board,  “Beggars 
made  here.”  Of  the  drunkards,  some  indeed  did  call  him 
hard  names,  and  impute  to  him  base  motives ; but  from 
among  even  these,  lost  as  they  seemed  to  be  to  all  hope,  he 
Avas,  by  God’s  grace,  enabled  to  reclaim  some,  as  brands 


4 


JAMIE,  A TRUE  STORY. 


snatched  from  the  burning,  while  others  of  them  said  to 
him,  in  the  bitterness  of  their  reflecting  moments.  Go  on, 
Jamie,  your  work  is  God’s  work.  Had  you  commenced 
but  a little  sooner,  what  a blessing  might  your  Society  have 
been  to  us ; but  alas,  it  is  all  over  with  us  now ! 

What  at  first  surprised  Jamie  much  was,  that  the  fa- 
thers or  husbands  of  these  veiy  drunkards  were  his  most  bit- 
ter ojjponehts.  He  went  to  them  with  a glad  heart,  expect- 
ing that  they  would  hear  with  delight  of  a plan  by  which 
drunkards,  in  great  numbers,  have  been  reclaimed,  and  by 
which  the  temperate  can  be  effectually  secured  against 
temptation;  but  his  heart  sunk  when  he  found,  not  that 
they  received  him  coldly,  for  to  such  receptions  he  was 
accustomed,  but  that  they,  as  well  as  others  who  boast 
much  of  being  “temperate  enough  already,”  lost  all  temper 
at  the  very  sound  of  temperance. 

Some  of  these  neighbors  of  Jamie  were  rea;ular  in  at- 

o o 

tendance  on  public  worship,  orthodox  and  strict,  which  gave 
them  an  influence  in  the  neighborhood.  Jamie,  therefore, 
was  anxious  to  enlist  them  on  the  side  of  temperance.  Yet 
he  could  not  but  know,  and  very  seriously  consider,  that 
whether,  in  market  or  fair,  these  same  men  either  bought 
or  sold,  there  could  be  no  such  thing  as  a d.ry  bargain ; 
that  at  churns,  and  wakes,  and  funerals,  and  marriages, 
and  such  like,  they  always  pushed  round  the  bottle  cheer- 
ily ; that  they  held  it  churlish  to  refuse  either  to  give  or 
take  a treat ; that  at  their  evening  tea-parties  it  was  not 
uncommon  for  six  or  eight  gallons  of  spirituous  liquor  to  be 
consumed  by  a few  neighbors,  men  and  women,  in  a single 
nio-ht ; that  in  eveiy  house  which  their  minister  visited,  the 
bottle  was  put  to  his  mouth  ; and  that  as  the  natural  conse- 
quence of  all  this  and  far  more,  not  only  was  the  crime  of 
drunkenness,  whether  in  minister  or  private  layman,  treated 
with  much  false  charit}’’,  and  called  by  many  soft  names,  but 
drunkenness  was  spreading  its  ravages  through  many  fami- 
lies, and  bringing  down  many  heads  in  sorrow  to  the  grave. 


JAMIE,  A TRUE  STORY. 


5 


Jamie  was  indeed  charitable,  but  he  was  unable  to  per- 
suade himself  that,  amid  such  universal  drinking,  all  the 
objections  to  his  Temperance  Society  arose  merely  from 
ignorance,  or  prejudice,  or  conscience  ; and  therefore,  when 
people  were  telling  him,  as  they  often  did,  that  they  cared 
not  a rush  about  spirituous  liquor,  “they  could  either  drink 
it  or  let  it  alone,”  he  used  sometimes  to  reply,  “ Oh,  I 
know  well  enough  that  you  can  drink  it ; what  I want  to 
know  is,  whether  you  can  let  it  alone and  at  other  times 
he  would  tell  them  Dean  Swift’s  story  of  the  three  men 
who  called  for  whiskey  in  a spirit-shop : I want  a glass, 
said  the  first,  for  I’m  very  hot ; I want  a glass,  said  the 
second,  for  I’m  very  cold ; let  me  have  a glass,  said  the 
third,  because  I like  it ! 

As  Jamie’s  opponents  were  no  match  for  him  in  argu- 
ment, they  tried  the  plans  usually  resorted  to  when  the 
wisdom  and  the  spirit  by  which  truth  speaks  cannot  be 
resisted.  For  a while  they  tried  ridicule.  That,  however, 
neither  satisfied  their  own  consciences  nor  frightened  Jamie, 
for  Jamie  could  stand  a laugh,  what  many  a man  can’t  do 
who  has  stood  grape-shot.  Then  they  circulated  reports 
about  his  having  got  drunk  on  different  occasions,  and  hav- 
ing been  caught  drinking  in  secret ; and  some  believed  them, 
being  of  the  same  mind  with  the  distiller,  who  asserted  it 
to  be  mere  humbug  that  any  man  could  live  without  wdiis- 
key,  and  that  wherever  the  croaking  cold  water  society 
men  did  not  drink  in  the  daytime,  they  made  up  for  it  by 
drinking  at  night.  These  evil  reports,  however,  fell  dead 
after  a little,  and  nobody  was  vile  enough  to  take  them  up 
again ; and  though  attempts  were  made  to  circulate  the  lie, 
that  Jamie  had  grown  weak  and  sickly  since  he  gave  up 
drinking,  yet  every  body  who  looked  him  in  the  face  saw, 
that  though  he  had  neither  a purple  nose  nor  whiskey  blos- 
soms on  his  chin,  yet  he  was  stronger  and  healthier  than 
ever ; and  that  he  could  say,  what  every  member  of  the 
Temperance  Society,  whether  temperate  or  intemperate 
VOL.  IX. 


n 


JAMIE,  A TRUE  STOEV. 


formerly,  can  say  rvith  truth,  after  abstaining  for  a single 
month  from  distilled  spirits,  that  in  every  sense  of  the  word 
he  is  better  for  the  change. 

Foiled  thus  in  all  their  attempts,  the  opponents  of  Jamie 
and  of  temperance  rallied  strong  for  one  last  charge ; and 
as  it  was  against  Jamie’s  weak  side — who  has  not  a weak 
side  ? — they  already  chuckled  in  tiiumph.  Jamie  had  thrown 
away  his  glass  for  ever,  but  his  pipe  stuck  firm  between  his 
teeth  still.  The  time  was,  when  he  was  strong  and  well 
without  tobacco,  and  when  the  taste  of  tobacco  was  dis- 
gusting and  sickening  to  him ; but  respectable  people  were 
smoking,  and  chewing,  and  snuffing  around  him,  and  when 
he  went  to  the  wake,  the  funeral,  or  the  eveninor  ffatherinor, 
“ Why,”  thought  he,  “ should  I be  singular,  and  not  take 
a whiff  like  the  rest  ?”  He  chose  smoking,  probably,  because 
he  considered  it  to  be  the  most  genteel  waj  of  being  dirty 
and  disgusting ; and,  according  to  the  general  law  of  habits, 
being  most  inveterate  where  the  article  used  was  at  first 
most  nauseous,  he  soon  became  so  confirmed  a smoker  that 
one- half  of  what  he  smoked  would  have  kept  him  decently 
clothed. 

The  lovers  of  strong  drink,  therefore,  thought  that  thev 
had  Jamie  on  the  hip  completely,  when  they  told  him  that 
his  only  reason  for  giving  up  whiskey  was,  that  he  could 
not  afford  to  buy  both  it  and  tobacco ; and  promised,  though 
with  no  sincerity,  that  they  would  quit  drinking  if  he  woidd 
quit  smoking. 

The  reproach  stuck  like  a burr  to  Jamie’s  conscience. 
He  asked  himself  again  and  again.  Is  my  use  of  tobacco  a 
stumbling-block  in  the  way  of  any  ? Does  it  do  injury  to 
the  great  cause  which  has  all  my  heart?  He  read,  he 
thought,  and  read  and  thought  again ; and  the  more  he 
read  and  thought,  the  more  was  he  convinced  that  the 
habitual  use  of  tobacco  in  any  of  its  forms  is  useless  ; is 
wasteful  of  time  and  money ; is  dirty ; is  offensive  to  others, 
and  a breach  of  Christian  charity ; is  a bad  example  to  the 


JAMIE,  A TRUE  STORY. 


7 


simple  and  young ; is  a temptation  to  drunkenness,  and  in- 
jurious to  health.  He  resolved  to  renounce  it,  and  flung 
the  old  black  pipe  from  him  to  lift  it  again  no  more.  Thus 
Jamie  was  conqueror  still;  and  his  victory  was  one  which 
Alexander,  the  conqueror  of  the  world,  could  not  gain. 
Jamie  gained  a victory  over  himself,  and  he  that  ruleth 
over  his  own  spirit  is  better  than  he  that  taketh  a city ; 
but  Alexander,  who  wept  because  he  had  not  other  worlds 
besides  his  own  to  subdue,  died  as  a fool  dieth,  and  sleeps 
in  a drunkard’s  grave. 

Jamie  learned  an  important  lesson  in  his  victoiy,  which 
will  be  of  use  to  him  as  long  as' he  lives.  Whatever  bad 
habit,  he  sa3's,  has  got  hold  upon  you,  break  it  off  at  once. 
Would  jrQu  pull  your  child  out  of  the  fire  cautiously  and 
gradually  ; or  would  you  out  with  him  at  once  ? So  let  it 
be  with  every  thing  wrong.  Don’t  prepare  for  ceasing 
from  sin  to-morrow,  or  next  year,  but  cease  from  it  now. 
Do  so  yourself ; go  right  up  to  your  neighbor  without  fear, 
and  in  love  tell  him  to  do  the  same,  having  this  assurance 
on  your  mind  continually,  that  what  ought  to  he  done,  can 
be  done. 

Jamie  seemed  from  the  commencement,  to  have  taken 
for  his  motto.  Expect  great  things,  woi’k  for  them,  and  you 
shall  have  them.  Work  as  though  all  depended  on  self; 
pray  as  knowing  all  to  depend  upon  God.  He  knew  his 
place,  and  modestly  kept  it ; yet  when  opportunity  offered 
for  dropping  a word  on  behalf  of  temperance,  in  the  ear 
either  of  clergyman  or  layman,  whatever  his  rank,  he  did 
what  conscience  told  him  was  right  towards  a neighbor  and 
a brother.  Jamie’s  pockets  and  hat  were  filled  with  tracts, 
which,  as  the  most  suitable  plan  for  his  shallow  purse,  and 
perhaps,  too,  for  securing  a reading  of  them,  he  generally 
lent,  and  sometimes  gave  away,  to  all  who  promised  to  read. 

Let  it  not  be  supposed  that  amidst  such  active  benevo- 
lence he  neglected  his  own  business.  Ho;  Jamie  had  not 
learned  in  vain  the  apostle’s  maxim,  “ Let  him  labor,  work- 


8 


JAMIE,  A TRUE  STORY. 


ing  with  his  hands  the  thing  which  is  good,  that  he  may 
have  to  give  to  him  that  needeth.”  It  was  nothing  for  him 
to  start  off  half  a dozen  miles  of  an  evening  after  his  work 
was  finished,  to  procure  some  new  tracts,  or  attend  a tem- 
perance-meeting, or  read  and  talk  kindly  to  some  poor 
drunkard,  whose  wife  had  sent  him  a hint  that  her  husband 
would  he  glad  to  ^ee  him ; or  else  to  procure  the  services 
of  some  clergyman  to  address  the  next  meeting  of  his 
Temperance  Society.  Jamie  is  one  of  those  who  imagine 
that  the  business  of  a minister  of  the  Gospel  is  not  finished 
when  he  has  preached  a couple  of  discourses  on  the  Sab- 
bath ; he  really  presumes  to  say,  that  both  minister  and 
layman  should  be  “instant  in  season  and  out  of  season,” 
and  like  their  great  Master,  going  about  continually  doing 
good.  He  does  not  set  up  for  a preacher,  nevertheless,  but 
confines  himself  to  his  own  proper  sphere.  He  applied  to 
ministers  to  address  his  meetinajs,  and  thousrh  some  few  of 
them  i-efused,  telling  him  significantly  that  they  preach  the 
Gospel,  even  when  Jamie  did  ask  in  his  simplicity,  if  Paul 
foro'ot  his  resolution  to  know  nothinor  but  Christ  and  him 

O O 

crucified,  when  he  reasoned  of  righteousness,  temperance, 
and  judgment  to  come ; yet  to  the  honor  of  the  ministry 
around  him  be  it  told,  that  whenever  he  got  up  a meeting, 
a minister  was  at  Jamie’s  service  to  address  it. 

Though,  as  a body,  Jamie’s  Temperance  Society  was 
most  steady,  yet  a few,  and  only  a few,  fell.  It  would  be 
harsh  to  say  that  some  were  glad  at  their  fall ; at  least 
many  temptations  were  thrown  in  their  way ; and  when 
they  fell,  a shout  of  triumph  was  raised  against  the  Tem- 
perance Society.  Such  trials  as  these  only  urged  Jamie  on 
with  fresh  vigor. 

Suppose,  he  used  to  say,  that  every  drunkard  should 
return  again  to  drunkenness  and  ruin ; would  not  this  be 
another  proof  that  truth,  and  honor,  and  principle,  are  all 
as  nothing  before  the  drunken  appetite?  Would  not  this 
be  a louder  and  a stronger  call  to  save  the  young,  to  stop 


JAMIE,  A TRUE  STORY. 


9 


young  sons  and  daughters,  now  safe,  from  filling  the  place 
of  drunken  parents  when  they  are  gone?  What  ruins  these 
poor  wretches?  he  would  ask.  Is-it  the  mere  abuse  of  a 
good  and  wholesome  thing?  No.  Distilled  spirits  are 
tempting,  deceitful,  and  too  violently  intoxicating  to  be  at 
all  habitually  used  with  safety;  and  as  four  hundred  of  the 
ablest  doctors  now  living  have  established,  and  unnumbered 
facts  prove,  they  are  unwholesome  and  injurious  to  body 
and  sold.  Let  every  man,  then,  for  his  own  sake  abstain ; 
and  for  the  sake  of  others  too,  especially  such  as  are  near 
and  dear  to  him,  0 let  him  abstain  for  ever. 

Who,  he  would  ask,  give  currency  and  influence  to  the 
absurd  fooleries  which  are  circulated  respecting  the  mar- 
vellous excellences  of  spirituous  liquors,  while  common- 
sense  tells  that  they  are  of  no  more  use  to  a man  than  to  a 
cow  or  horse?  Not  drankards,  surely;  for,  on  such  a sub- 
ject at  least,  they  would  not  be  believed.  Who  give  sup- 
port and  respectability  to  spirit-shops,  and  the  whole  spirit- 
trade  ? Drunkards  surely  could  make  nothing  respectable, 
and  no  spirit-seller  would  put  on  his  sign-board,  “ The 
drunkard’s  spirit-shop.”  Again,  he  would  put  it  to  men’s 
consciences  to  answer,  who  give  respectability  and  perma- 
nence to  all  the  treatings  and  other  customs  by  which  each 
successive  generation  of  drunkards  is  trained  ? There  was 
no  getting  over  the  undeniable  fact,  that  moderate  spirit- 
drinkers  must  bear  the  responsibility  of  all  this ; and  the 
more  the  matter  was  canvassed,  the  more  clearly  was  it 
seen,  that  the  only,  way  in  which  drunkenness  can  be  put 
down  is  the  very  way  which  Jamie  and  the  Temperance 
Society  proposed — the  union  of  the  temperate  in  refraining 
from  intoxicating  drinks,  and  promoting  temperance. 

To  parents  Jamie  addressed  himself  with  unwearied  and 
anxious  importunity.  Would  you  object,  he  would  say  to 
them,  when  other  arguments  had  failed — would  you  object 
to  your  son  becoming  a member  when  going  away  from 
you  to  live,  perhaps,  amidst  the  temptations  of  a large 

13^* 


10 


JAMIE,  A TRUE  STORY. 


town  ? Would  you  be  afraid,  lest  keeping  him  away  from 
the  temptations  of  the  bottle  would  make  him  an  easier 
prey  to  the  solicitations  of  the  strange  woman,  whose  house 
is  the  Avay  to  death,  and  whose  steps  take  hold  on  hell? 
He  met  with  none,  whether  spirit-sellers  or  spirit-drinkers, 
who  were  able  to  resist  this  appeal ; and  from  this,  as  well 
as  other  causes,  the  young  formed  a large  and  zealous  por- 
tion of  Jamie’s  Society.  The  young  he  Avas  particularly 
anxious  to  enlist  in  his  cause,  not  merely  because  youth  is 
the  time  of  truth,  and  of  open,  AA'arm  hearts,  and  in  an  es- 
pecial manner  God’s  time,  but  because  he  beliei-ed  spirit- 
drinking parents  to  be  the  great  agents  in  making  their 
children  drunkards. 

A case  which  happened  in  his  own  neighborhood,  gaA-e 
him  a melancholy  confirmation  of  this  opinion.  A respect- 
able moderate  drinker,  aaTio  only  noAY  and  then  exceeded 
his  single  tumbler  of  punch,  had  seA'en  daughters,  Avhom 
he  Avas  in  the  habit  of  treating  to  a little  glass  of  punch 
each  day  after  dinner.  He,  of  course,  considered  it  good, 
and  they  AA'ere  soon  taught  to  consider  it  so  too.  They 
began  first  to  like  their  one  glass;  then  they  began  to  like 
tAYO  glasses  much  better;,  one  glass  called  for  another,  till, 
in  the  end,  they  found,  according  to  the  adage,  that  though 
one  glass  of  spirits  is  too  much  for  any  one,  tAA'o,  glasses  are 
quite  too  little.  Right  onward  they  Avent  to  drunkenness 
and  crime ; for,  alas,  it  AA'as  too  true  in  their  case,  as  in  all 
others,  that  any  one  may  be  ruined  aaTio  can  be  persuaded 
to  drink  intoxicating  liquors.  With  the  help  of  whiskey, 
as  the  murderer  said,  a man  can  do  any  thing ; so,  at  least, 
it  Avas  AA-ith  these  poor  girls ; thej-  are  liA'ing  with  broken 
character,  A'irtue  and  all  lost.  There  is,  howev'er,  one  ex- 
ception, the  youngest ; and  how  did  she  escape  ? She  was 
too  young  Avhen  her  father  died  to  be  influenced  by  her 
father’s  example ; and  her  father,  with  the  character  of  a 
moderate,  regular  man,  died  sitting  at  table  with  his  turn- 
bier  of  punch  before  him. 


JAMIE,  A TRUE  STORY. 


11 


Principally  tliroiigh  the  prudent  and  laborious  exertions 
of  Jamie,  a great  moral  reformation  has  been  effected 
througliout  an  extensive  district ; three  hundred  names  are 
enrolled  on  the  list  of  his  Temperance  Society ; wives  and 
sisters  are  blessing  him  for  husbands  and  brothers  reformed ; 
the  standard  of  public  sentiment  in  regard  to  temperance 
has  been  nobly  raised ; people  don’t  talk  now  as  formerly 
of  a man’s  being  someivhat  elevated  or  ti^sy,  or  merely  over- 
taken, when  he  is  drunk,  for  they  have  learned  to  call  things 
by  their  right  names,  and  -not  practise  imposture  by  slang 
phrases.  Public  resolutions  have  been  passed  against  giv- 
ing spirituous  liquor  at  wakes  or  ^funerals,  churns,  plough- 
ing-matches,  or  evening  parties  ; men  and  women  can  go 
to  market  and  fair,  buy  and  sell,  and  yet  never  think  of 
treating  or  being  treated  with  spirits ; and  wJiat  still  more 
fully  exhibits  the  extent  of  the  reformation,  it  has  reached, 
in  some  cases,  even  the  most  degraded  victims  of  iniquity, 
some  of  whom  at  least  are  now  consistent  members  of  the 
Temperance  Society. 

Arguing  on  the  subject  of  temperance  has,  in  a good 
degree,  ceased  in  the  neighborhood ; and  though  a number 
of  the  old  or  ill-disposed  appear  decidedly  resolved  to  have 
their  glass,  whatever  the  consequences,  in  the  spirit  of  the 
fellow  who  told  his  doctor  that  he  loved  his  glass,  and  did 
not  care  a fig  for  his  liver,  yet  the  young  and  conscientious 
are  becoming  more  hearty  in  the  cause  of  Jamie  and  tem- 
perance. 

Nothing  gladdened  Jamie’s  heart  more  than  the  success 
which  crowned  his  efforts  in  the  Sabbath-school,  of  which 
he  is  superintendent.  Spirit-drinking  he  not  only  knew  to 
be  a barrier  against  the  progress  of  the  Gospel,  in  prevent- 
ing drunkards  from  hearing  it,  and  grieving  away  the  Spirit 
of  God  from  the  moderate  diinker,  but  he  felt  it  to  be  pecu- 
liarly injurious  to  the  young,  in  often  swallowing  up  that 
money  which  should  be  spent  in  their  education,  and  in 
withholding  from  many  even  the  poor  pittance  which  should 


12 


JAMIE,  A TRUE  isTORY. 


cover  tlieir  nakedness  in  the  Sabbath-school  and  the  house 
of  God. 

As,  therefore,  the  children  of  the  poor  had  wrung  out 
so  much  of  the  bitter  dregs  of  spirit-drinking,  he  was  anx- 
ious iihat  Temperance  Societies,  the  sworn  foes  of  spirit- 
drinking, should,  with  their  earliest,  warmest  efforts,  return 
blessings  to  them  for  years  of  sorrow,  oppression,  and 
wrong.  Sabbath-school  teachers,  too,  he  saw  to  be  among 
God’s  choicest  instruments  in  the  work  of  reform.  Young, 
yet  seiious,  active,  and  benevolent,  possessed  of  the  confi- 
dence of  their  scholars  and  their  parents,  and  from  their 
own  character,  and  their  connection  with  a noble  system  of 
Christian  enterprise,  exercising  a mighty  moral  influence, 
wide  as  the  world,  what  could  they  not  do  for  the  regene- 
ration of  the  public  mind,  especially  of  that  mind  which 
shall  be  all  active,  in  good  or  ill,  when  the  present  genera- 
tion are  mouldering  in  the  grave. 

He  commenced,  therefore,  the  work  of  reformation  in 
his  own  Sabbath-school,  and  he  commenced  in  the  right 
wa3%  by  communicating  information,  and  \)ringing  both 
teachers  and  scholars  to  think  and  apply  the  truth  for 
themselves.  He  wished  none,  he  said,  to  join  his  ranks 
against  the  great  enemy,  but  volunteers  ; he  wished  for  no 
influence  over  any  one,  but  the  influence  of  truth,  and  no 
bond  upon  any  but  the  bond  of  an  enlightened  conscience. 
He  introduced  a proposal  for  each  teacher  in  rotation  to 
read  an  interesting  extract  to  the  scholars  on  some  suitable 
subject,  and  temperance  of  course  was  not  excluded.  The 
mere  hearing  of  the  principles  of  Temperance  Societies  was 
sufficient  to  make  converts  of  some  of  the  teachers ; for 
what  can  be  more  rational  than  abstaining  from  intoxicating 
drinks  and  promoting  temperance  ? but  it  was  not  so  with 
others. 

Freethinkers  may  talk  as  they  please  about  a man 
having  no  more  control  over  his  belief  than  over  the  hue 
of  his  skin  or  the  height  of  his  stature,  still  it  is  a simple 


JAMIE,  A TRIJE  STORV. 


13 


fact  of  Jamie’s  experience,  that  it  is  mighty  hard  to  con- 
vince a man  'who  does  not  wish  to  be  convinced,  and  that, 
when  anybody  first  resolves  to  continue  to  drink,  he  is  then 
marvellously  fertile  in  objections  against  the  Temperance 
Society. 

One  of  the  teachers  especially,  who  had  been  at  differ- 
ent times  overtaken  by  the  bottle  coming  from  the  market 
or  fair,  was  so  opposed  to  temperance,  that  when  his  turn 
for  reading  on  the  subject  came,  he  had  still  some  excuse ; 
and  Jamie,  without  in  any  way  wounding  his  feelings,  was 
prepared  with  an  extract  to  read  for  him,  till  at  length, 
findinof  'him  softenino-  down  under  the  influence  of  truth  and 

O O 

love,  he,  on  one  morning  of  his  turn  for  reading,  put  an 
extract  into  his  hand,  and  said  kindly.  Just  go  out  for  a 
little  and  read  it  over  by  yourself,  and  that  will  prepare 
you  for  reading  it  nicely  to  the  children.  He  did  so,  and 
came  in  and  read  it  as  one  who  felt  its  power.  Jamie  saw 
that  his  heart  was  full,  he  knew  that  now  is  the  time  for 
doing  good,  and  not  to-morrow,  and  therefore  rising  up 
and  proposing  that  a Temperance  Society  should  be  formed 
in  the  school,  he  put  his  own  name  to  the  usual  declaration. 
We  resolve  to  refrain  from  intoxicating  drinks,  and  promote 
temperance. 

The  next  man  who  stepped  forward  was  the  self-same 
teacher  who  had  so  long  opposed.  “ Children,”  said  he, 
“ spirituous  liquor  is  a bad  thing ; it  has  done  me  harm  ; it 
is  doing  harm  to  every  thing  good,  and  to  show  that  I hate 
it  and  renounce  it,  I put  down  my  name.”  The  other 
teachers  followed ; the  elder  children  followed  the  noble 
example  of  their  teachers,  and  as  a proof  that  they  knew 
and  felt  what  they  did,  when  after  school-hours  on  next 
Candlemas-day,  the  master  of  a day-school  which  some  of 
them  attended,  brought  forth  whiskey  to  treat  the  scholars 
according  to  custom,  the  noble  little  temperance  heroes 
rose,  as  if  by  concert,  and  marched  out  of  the  room. 

While  thus  J amie  urged  on  the  good  ivork  of  reforming 


14 


JAMIE,  A TRUE  STORy. 


others,  his  own  soul  knew  the  blessings  of  the  promise, 
“ He  that  watereth  others,  shall  be  watered  also  himself.” 
After  renouncing  whiskey,  he  felt  a sweetness  and  power 
in  God’s  word  which  he  had  never  known  before.  He  al- 
most doubted  whether  it  could  be  the  same  old  Bible  that 
he  used  to  read.  He  had  been  abusing  Hod’s  mercy  by 
indulging  in  sin  in  time  past,  as  if  in  expectation  that 
sovereign  grace  would  some  moment  descend  in  a miracle 
and  drag  him  to  holiness  and  heaven ; but  now  be  saw 
clearly  that  God  is  sincere  in  all  his  promises,  and  that 
the  gracious  invitations  of  the  Gospel  mean  just  what  they 
say. 

His  first  duty,  he  saw  clearly,  was  to  give  his  own  self 
to  the  Lord.  To  that  God  of  love  who  asked  his  heart,  he 
gave  it.  He  heard  God  in  his  word  saying,  “ Beheve  on 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  thou  shalt  be  saved and  he 
took  God  at  his  word,  and  obeyed' his  command.  From 
what  he  knew  to  be  sin,  he  ceased  at  once ; and  what  God 
told  him  was  duty,  he  did  at  once,  as  God  enabled  him, 
without  stopping  to  calculate  consequences,  for  he  left  them 
with  his  Makei’.  He  knew  that  no  one  goes  to  heaven  or 
hell  alone,  the  influence  of  the  most  humble  being  necessa- 
rily exerted  either  for  good  or  ill ; and  as  though  travailing 
in  birth  for  immortal  souls,  he  was  each  day,  by  his  con- 
versation and  example,  saying  to  his  neighbor.  Come  with 
us,  and  we  will  do  you  good.  The  more  heartily  and  fully 
he  obeyed  God,  the  better  he  liked  God’s  service;  and  the 
more  extensive  acquaintance  he  obtained  of  the  great  salva- 
tion of  the  Gospel,  the  more  strongly  did  he  feel  himself 
drawn  by  a Saviour’s  love  to  accept,  to  adorn,  and  propa- 
gate it.  Though  beyond  middle  life,  he  had  never  cele- 
bi'afed  his  Saviour’s  love  at  the  Lord’s  table.  Kow,  how- 
ever, he  saw  it  to  be  his  duty  and  privilege ; and  those 
whose  hearts  are  set  on  winning  souls,  can  conceive  with 
what  holy  joy  a worthy  young  minister,  whose  church 
Jamie  had  lately  joined,  saw  him  sitting  down  to  com- 


JAMIE,  A TRUE  STORY. 


15 


memorate  with  his  fellow-Christians  the  dying  love  of  the 
great  Redeemer. 

“ Not  unto  us,  0 Lord,  not  unto  us,  but  unto  thy  name 
give  glory,  for  thy  mercy,  and  for  thy  truth’s  sake.” 

I knew  a man  by  the  name  of  D , who  was  a very 

skilful,  robust,  and  prosperous  blacksmith,  and  a man  of 
more  than  ordinary  intelligence.  He  yielded  to  the  temp- 
tation to  which  his  trade  exposed  him,  till  he  became 
habitually  • intemperate,  and  actually  a nuisance  to  the 
neighborhood.  The  innkeeper,  who  .was  also  a store- 
keeper, on  whom  he  depended  for  his  daily  supplies  of 
stronp'  drink,  amountino-,  it  is  believed,  to  little  less  than  a 
barrel  and  a half  annuallj'-,  at  length  hired  him  to  abstain 
for  one  year,  by  giving  him  his  note  of  hand  often  dollars. 
He  immediately  became  a calm  and  peaceable  man.  His 
health,  and  appetite,  and  business  returned  to  him.  And 
he  would  tell  you  that  the  innkeeper  had  done  him  the 
greatest  kindness  he  had  ever  received.  “ I was  undone,” 
said  he.  “ Now  I enjoy  myself  and  my  family,  and  the 
best  farm  in  the  town  would  not  tempt' me  to  return  to  the 
use  of  ardent  spirits.”  The  poor  man  kept  his  resolution 
till  the  end  of  the  eleventh  month,  which  it  seems  he  had 
mistaken  for  the  end  of  the  year,  and  then  ventured  to  in- 
dulare  a little : and  alas,  when  I saw  him  last,  he  was  drao-- 
ging  his  legs  along,  supported  by  two  of  his  companions, 
who  I feared  were  pursuing  the  same  miserable  course  to 
destruction,  and  seemed  to  be  lending  him  their  sympathy ; 
and  he  was  one  of  the  most  loathsome  and  degraded  hu- 
man beings  my  eyes  ever  beheld.  I should  not  be  sur- 
piised  to  know  that  he  is  now  with  the  dead.  May  my 
latter  end  not  be  like  his. 


A respectable  merchant  in  P , having  long  observed 

that  a farmer,  with  whom  he  often  traded,  was  in  the  habit 
of  using  ardent  spirits  to  great  excess,  offered  one  day  to 


16 


JAMIE,  A TRUE  STORY. 


give  him  fifty  dollars,  if  he  would  drink  no  more  for  ten 
years ; except  so  much  as  his  physician  should  think  neces- 
sary for  his  healtli.  The  farmer  agreed  to  the  proposition, 
and  the  bargain  was  confii'med  in  writing.  It  was  not  long 
before  he  felt  unwell,  applied  to  his  physician,  and  bitters 
were  prescribed.  He  had  scarcely  begun  to  use  them,  when 
he  found  that  his  appetite  for  ardent  spirits  was  returning 
Avith  almost  irresistible  Adolence.  He  foresaw  the  evil  that 
Avould  probably  ensue,  thrcAv  away  his  bitters,  and  dashed 
his  bottle  to  pieces.  He  drunk  no  more  ardent  spirits  till 
the  ten  years  had  expired,  Avhen  he  called  on  the  merchant, 
and  informed  him  that  the  conditions  of  the  obligation  had 
been,  on  his  part,  fulfilled.  “ Of  course,  then,”  said  the 
merchant,  “you  Avant  your  money.”  “ No,”  he  replied,  “I 
cannot  take  it.  I have  saved  far  more  than  my  fifty  dollars 
in  my  bills  at  your  store,  and  I hai’e  made  ten  times  that 
sura  by  attention  to  my  business.”  The  merchant  has  long 
since  gone  to  his  rest.  The  farmer  still  lives,  has  a large  es- 
tate, and  a fine  family  around  him,  and  is  a respectable  and 
Avorthy  citizen ; for,  till  this  day,  he  drinks  no  ardent  spirits. 


DECLARATION  OF  THIRTA'-EIGHT  THYSICIANS. 

“ The  undersigned,  physicians  of  Cincinnati,  feel  it  their 
duty  to  express  their  decided  opinion  in  opposition  to  the 
habitual,  as  Avell  as  occasional  use  of  ardent  spirits.  They 
are  convinced,  from  all  their  observation  and  experience, 
that  ardent  spirits  are  not  only  unnecessary,  but  absolutely 
injurious  in  a healthy  state  of  the  system  ; that  they  pro- 
duce many,  and  aggraimte  most  of  the  diseases  to  Avhich 
the  human  frame  is  liable ; that  they  are  unnecessary  in 
relieving  the  effects  of  cold  and  fatigue,  which  are  best  re- 
lieved by  rest  and  food ; that  their  use  in  families,  in  the 
form  of  bitters,  toddy,  punch,  etc.,  is  decidedly  pernicious, 
perverting  the  appetite,  and  undermining  the  constitution  ; 
that  they  are  equally  as  poisonous  as  opium  or  arsenic,  oper- 
ating sometimes  more  sloAvly,  but  with  equal  certainty.^ 


THE 


WONDERFUL  ESCAPE. 


In  the  town  where  I reside  were  twelve  young  men. 
who  were  accustomed,  early  in  life,  to  meet  together  for 
indulgence  in  drinking  and  all  manner  of  excess.  In  the 
course  of  time,  some  of  them  engaged  in  business  ; but  their 
habits  of  intemperance  were  so  entwined  with  their  very 
existence,  that  they  became  bankrupts  or  insolvents.  Eight 
of  them  died  under  the  age  of  forty,  without  a hope  beyond 
the  grave,  victims  of  intemperance.  Three  others  are  still 
living  in  the  most  abject  poverty.  Two  of  these  had  for- 
merly moved  in  very  respectable  circles,  but  now  they  are 
in  the  most  miserable  state  of  poverty  and  disgrace. 

One  more,  the  last  of  the  twelve,  the  worst  of  all,  re- 
mains to  be  accounted  for.  He  was  a sort  of  ringleader ; 
and  being  in  the  wine  and  spirit  trade,  his  business  was,  to 
take  the  head  of  the  table  at  convivial  parties,  and  sit  up 
whole  nights,  drinking  and  inducing  others  to  do  the  same, 
never  going  to  bed  sober.  He  was  an  infidfel,  a blasphemer, 
a disciple  of  Tom  Paine,  both  in  principle  and  practice,  yet 
he  was  a good-natured  man,  and  would  do  anybody  a kind- 
ness. At  length  he  left  the  town,  and  went  to  reside  at  a 
distance,  where,  for  a time,  he  refrained  from  drinking,  was 
married,  and  every  thing  seemed  prosperous  around  him ; 
but  instead  of  being  thankful  to  God  for  his  mercy,  and 
Avatching  against  his  besetting  sin,  he  gave  way  to  his  old 
propensity,  and  brought  misery  on  his  family  and  friends. 

One  dark  night,  being  in  the  neighborhood  of  Dudley, 
he  had  been  drinking  to  excess,  wandered  out  of  the  house, 
and  staggered  among  the  coalpits,  exposed  to  fall  into  them, 
and  be  lost.  He  proceeded  on  till  he  fell,  and  rolled  down 
the  bank  of  the  canal ; but  God,  Avho  is  rich  in  mercy,  had 
caused  a stone  to  lie  directly  in  his  path,  and  the  poor 
drunkard  Avas  stopped  from  rolling  over  into  the  Avater, 
Avhere,  by  one  turn  more,  he  Avould  have  sunk  into  eternal 
ruin.  His  senses  returned  for  a moment ; he  saAV  that  if  he 


2 


THE  WONDERI'-UL  ESCAPE. 


attempted  to  stand,  he  would  fall  headlong  into  the  canal, 
and  crawled  back  again  into  the  road.  BiU  this  miraculous 
preservation  had  no  effect  upon  him ; he  merely  called  it  a 
lucky  escape. 

Once,  after  having  indulged  in  many  days  of  intemper- 
ance, being  come  a little  to  his  senses,  he  began  to  reason 
with  himself  upon  his  folly — surrounded  with  blessings,  yet 
abusing  the  whole — and  in  an  angry,  passionate  manner,  he 
muttered,  “ 0,  it’s  no  use  for  me  to  repent ; my  sins  are  too 
great  to  be  forgiven.”  He  had  no  sooner  uttered  these 
words,  than  a voice  seemed  to  say,  with  strong  emphasis, 
“ If  thou  wilt  forsake  thy  sins,  they  shall  be  forgiven.”  The 
poor  man  started  at  what  he  believed  to  be  real  sound,  and 
turned  round,  but  saw  no  one,  and  said  to  himself,  “ I have 
been  drinking  till  I am  going  mad.”  He  stood  paralyzed, 
not  knowing  what  to  think,  till  relieved  by  a flood  of  teai's, 
and  then  exclaimed,  “ Surely,  this  is  the  voice  of  mercy, 
once  more  calling  me  to  repentance.”  He  fell  on  his  knees, 
and  half  suffocated  by  his  feelings,  cried  out,  “ God  be 
merciful  to  me  a sinner.”  The  poor  wretch  was  broken- 
hearted ; and  now  his  besetting  sin  appeared  more  horrible 
than  ever ; but  it  must  be  conquered,  or  he  must  peidsh. 
Then  commenced  a contest  more  terrible  than  that  of  con- 
flicting armies ; the  soul  was  at  stake ; an  impetuous  torrent 
was  to  be  turned  into  an  opposite  coui'se.  He  now  began 
to  search  the  Bible,  which  he  had  once  despised.  Here  he 
saw  that  crimson  and  scarlet  sins  could  be  blotted  out,  and 
made  white  as  snow ; that  the  grace  of  God  was  sufficient. 
He  refrained  from  intemperance,  commenced  family  prayer, 
and  hope  again  revived ; but  his  deadly  foe  still  pursued 
him,  and  he  was  again  overcome. 

How  his  disgrace  and  sinfulness  appeared  worse- than 
ever,  and  with  melancholy  feeling  he  cried  out,  in  anguish 
of  spirit,  that  he  was  doomed  to  eternal  misery,  and  it  was 
useless  to  try  to  avert  his  fate.  His  cruel  enemy  took  this 
opportunity  to  suggest  to  his  mind  that  he  had  so  disgraced 
himself,  that  it  would  be  better  to  get  rid  of  his  life  at  once — 
frequentlj'^  the  end  of  drunkards.  The  razor  was  in  his 
hand  ; but  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  interposed,  and  the  weap- 
on fell  to  the  ground.  Still  his  enemy  pursued  him,  and 
seemed  to  have  new  power  over  his  sin  of  intemperance. 
He  would  sometimes  refrain  for  days  and  weeks,  and  then 


THE  WONDERFUL  ESCAPE. 


3 


again  he  was  as  bad^as  ever.  Hope  seemed  now  to  be  lost ; 
especially  one  dajL  when,  after  having-  been  brought  into 
great  weakness  through  intemperance,  death  ap)peared  to 
be  very  near,  and  his  awful  state  more  terrific  than  ever. 
Not  a moment  was  to  be  lost ; he  cast  himself  once  more  at 
the  footstool  of  his  long-insulted  Creator,  and  with  an  in- 
tensity of  agony  cried  out,  “ What  profit  is  there  in  my  - 
blood  when  I go  down  to  the  pit  ? Shall  the  dust  praise 
thee  ? Shall  it  declare  thy  truth  ? Hear,  0 Lord,  and 
have  mercy  upon  me;  Lord,  be  thou  my  helper.”  He 
sunk  dojvn  exhausted  ; he  could  say  no  more.  That  prayer 
was  heard ; and  a v'oice  fi'om  heaven  seemed  to  reply,  “ I 
will  help  thee ; I have  seen  thy  struggles,  and  I -svill  now 
say  to  thine  enemy,  ‘ Hitherto  thou  hast  come — but  no 
further.’  ” 

A physician  was  consulted  as  to  the  probability  or  po's- 
sibility  of  medicine  being  rendered  effectual  to  stop  the  dis- 
position to  intemperance.  The  poor  man  would  have  suf- 
fei-ed  the  amputation  of  all  his  limbs,  could  so  severe  a 
method  have  freed  him  from  his  deadly  habit,  which,  like  a 
vulture,  had  fastened  upon  his  very  vitals.  Eagerly  did  he 
begin  to  take  the  simple  medicine  prescribed,  (a  prepara- 
tion of  steel,)  with  earnest  prayer  to  God  for  help  in  this 
last  struggle  for  life ; but  faith  and  prayer  proved  the  best 
of  remedies  ; he  persevered,  and  conquered  ; and  be  it  said 
to  the  honor  and  glory  of  the  Lord  God  Almighty,  who 
sent  his  angel  to  whisper  in  the  poor  man’s  ear,  “ I will 
help  thee,”  that  from  the  latter  end  of  September,  1816, 
to  the  present  hour,  nearly  twenty  years,  not  no  nmch  as 
a spoonful  of  spirituous  liquor,  or  wine  of  any  description, 
has  ever  passed  the  surface  of  that  mans  tongue. 

The  above  account  of  his  own  experience,  was  given  by 
Mr.  Hall,  a merchant  of  Maidstone,  Kent,  at  the  anniver- 
sary of  the  British  and  Foreign  Temperance  Society,  May, 
1836. 

Mr.  Hall  stated,  in  conclusion,  that  he  had  since  been 
aiming  to  be  useful  to  his  fellow-men,  and  had  written  a 
Tract,  the  object  of  which  was,  to  call  drunkards,  and  all 
sinners  to  repentance,  of  which  more  than  one  hundred 
thousand  copies  had  been  circulated.  See  Tract,  No.  319. 


4 


THE  WONDERFUL  ESCAPE. 


Has  the  reader  a relative,  friend,  or  neighbor,  who  drinks 
his  daily  drams,  and  is  plunging  into  that  awful  gulf  which 
yearly  swallows  up  its  thousands  of  victims  ? Let  the  above 
history  suggest  a duty,  and  encourage,  to  its  performance. 
This  is  not  a solitaiy  instance  of  victory  obtained  over  pow- 
erful and  raging  appetite.  There  is  evidence  that  tens  of 
thousands  of  persons  in  the  United  States,  who  were  once 
intemperate,  have  become  sober,  useful  citizens ; and  not  a 
few  of  them  ardent  Christians.  And  this  has  been  effected, 
not  by  despising  and  reproaching  them,  but  chiefly  through  " 
the  divine  blessing  on  the  kind  ’personal  influence  of  friends, 
excited  by  no  other  motive  than  Christian  benevolence  and 
love  of  their  fellow-men.  The  self-despair  of  the  intem- 
perate man  arises,  in  a great  measure,  from  the  conHction, 
that  he  is  an  outcast  from  public  respect  and  S3'mpathy. 
He  is  moved  b}'  the  language  of  kindness ; and  if  suitably 
warned  of  his  danger,  and  pointed  to  the  wa}'  of  escape, 
may  be  saved  from  ruin.  Persuade  him  to  refrain,  till  rea- 
son resumes  her  sway,  and  the  burning  desire  for  stimulus 
bas  subsided.  A few  months  will  generally  effect  this 
great  change.  In  his  sober  hours  he  often  weeps  over  his 
folly.  Ills  ear.  is  open  to  the  voice  of  friendship,  and  he  will 
yield  to  kind  remonstrance — perhaps  consent  to  place  him- 
self under  the  care  of  a temperate  physician.  Go  to  him 
when  alon^,  with  tenderness  and  love.  Offer  him  such 
aid  as  is  needed  by  himself  or  family.  Give  him  the  above 
history,  in  view  of  which  none  need  despair.  Bring  him, 
if  possible,  to  the  house  of  God.  Go  to  him  again  and 
again,  till  you  obtain  his  pledge  to  abstinence.  Follow 
him  with  kindness.  Support  him  in  the  struggle.  In- 
duce him  utterl'y  to  abandon  all  that  can  intoxicate,  as  his 
only  safety;  wholly  to  refrain  from  the  ^;?ace  and  the  com- 
pany where  intoxicatirig  drinks  are  used  ; and  in  dependence 
on  Christ,  humbly  to  offer  the  prayer,  “ Hold  thou  me  up, 
and  I shall  be  safe.”  Interest  yourself  in  his  welfare,  and 
persevere  till  you  gain  the  glorious  triumph — the  conquest 
of  an  immortal  mind,  that  ma}^  dift’use  blessings  on  eveiy 
side  in  this  life,  and  be  a star  in  the  Redeemer’s  crown  of 
glory  for  ever. 


PUBLISHED  BY  THE  AMERICAN  TRACT  SOCIETY. 


THE 


EVENTFUL  TWELVE  HOLES; 

OR, 

THE  DESTITUTION  AND  WRETCHEDNESS 


OF 

A DRUNKARD. 


“ It  is  a sorrowful  heart,”  said  I to  myself,  as  I raked 
over  the  dying  embers  upon  the  hearth  to  throw  a transient 
gleam  of  light  over  my  dreary  cottage — “ It  is  a sorrowful 
heart  that  never  rejoices  ; and  though  I am  somewhat  in 
debt  at  the  Blue  Moon,  and  the  landlady  of  the  Stag  has 
over  and  over  again  said  she’d  never  trust  me,  still  she  has 
not  yet  refused  me,  only  at  first.  Many’s  the  shilling  I have 
paid  them  both,  to  be  sure,”  said  I,  rising  involuntarily  and 
going  to  the  cupboard  : “I  had  better  take  a mouthful  before 
I go  out,  for  it’s  no  use  to  wait  any  longer  for  Mary’s  return.” 

VOL.  X. 


2 


THE  EVENTFUL  TWELVE  HOURS. 


Just  at  this  moment  the  eldest  of  my  two  children  in- 
quired in  a piteous  tone,  “if  that  was  mother.”  “Your 
mother  ? no,”  said  I ; “ and  what  if  it  was,  what  then  ?” 

“ Because,  father,”  continued  the  child,  “ I thought  per- 
haps she  had  brought  a loaf  of  bread  home,  for  I am  so 
hungry.”  “Hungry,  child,”  said  I;  “then  why  did  you 
not  ask  me  before  you  went  to  bed  ?”  “ Because,  father,  I 

knew  there  was  no  bread.  When  mother  sent  me  to  get  a 
loaf  this  morning  at  the  grocer’s,  Mrs.  Mason  said  our  last 
month’s  bill,  had  not  yet  been  settled,  and  she  could  not 
trust  any  more ; and  so  we  have  only  had  a few  potatoes. 
When  mother  went  out  to  look  for  work,  she  promised  to 
bring  a loaf  home  very  early.”  “Why,  Jane,”  said  I, 

“ this  is  a new  story — what,  is  there  nothing  at  all  in  the 
house  ?”  “ No,  father,  nothing ; and  that  is  not  all,  father ; 

mother  cried  this  morning  about  it  when  she  went  out ; and 
though  she  never  uses  bad  words,  said  something  about 
cursed  drink : she  said  she  should  be  back  before  dark, 
and  it  has  now  been  dark  a long  time,  and  hark,  how  it 
rains.” 

The  fire  flickered  up  a little,  and  at  this  moment  the 
latch  of  the  door  clicked ; I peeped  up  through  the  gloom, 
a pang  of  conscious  shame  stealing  through  my  frame ; but 
it  was  not  my  wife,  as  I of  course  supposed — it  was  Mrs. 
Mason.  I was  surprised  and  confused.  “ Where  is  your 
wife,  James  ?”  said  she,  in  a mild,  firm  tone.  “ Is  that 
mother?”  said  my  child  again,  in  a rather  sleep}"  tone  ; “ I 
am  so  glad  you  are  come,  I am  so  hungry.”  “ That  child,” 
said  I,  “ has  gone  to  bed  without  her  supper  to-night,” 
fumbling  about  at  the  same  time  upon  the  mantel-piece  for 
a bit  of  candle,  which  I could  not  find.  “Yes,”  said  Mrs. 
Mason,  very  gravely,  “ and  without  its  dinner  too,  I fear ; 
but  Avhere  is  your  wife,  James?  for  I am  come  to  see’' 
whether  she  brought  any  thing  home  with  her  for  herself 
and  family ; forT  could  not  feel  comfortable  after  I had 
refused  your  child  a loaf  this  morning,  just  as  I know  the 


THE  EVENTFUL  TWELVE  HOURS. 


3 


refusal  ^yas.”  I now  stammered  out  sometliing  about 
“Sony,”  and  “ashamed,”  and  “bad  times.”  “But  where 
is  your  wife,  James  ?”  “ She  is,  perhaps,  at  neighbor 

Wright’s,”  said  I,  briskly,  glad  to  catch  an  opportunity  of 
a minute’s  reti'eat  from  iny  present  awkward  position  ; “ I’ll 
just  step  and  see.  Jane,  get  up,  child.”  “No,  James,” 
said  Mrs.  Mason,  in  a tone  not  to  be  misunderstood  ; “ no, 
James,  I wish  she  was  sitting  by  their  comfortable  fireside ; 
I called  in  there  just  now,  as  I came  along,  to  pay  a little 
bill,  and  they  spoke  very  kindly  of  your  rrife,  and  hoped  she 
might  be  enabled  to  rub  thi’ough  this  winter — but  I will 
call  again  in  half  an  hour : Mary  will  have  come  home,  I 
hope,  by  that  time.” 

The  door  closed  upon  her,  and  I remained  in  a kind  of 
half  stupor ; my  month’s  unpaid  bill,  my  public-house 
scores,  my  destitute  home ; these  and  a thousand  things 
connected  Avith  my  situation,  kept  me  musing  in  no  A'ery 
comfortable  frame  of  mind,  when  the  latch  again  clicked, 
the  door  opened,  and  through  the  half  gleam  of  one  flick- 
ering flame,  I just  caught  the  glimpse  of  a form,, that  in  the 
next  instant,  cold  and  Avet,  sunk  lifeless  in  my  arms.  It 
Avas  Mary.  As  she  sunk  down  upon  me,  she  just  said,  Avith 
a shudder,  “ Cold.”  Shall  I stop  to  tell  you  of  the  agony 
of  my  mind  ? Shall  I endeavor  to  relate  a portion  of  the 
thoughts  that  chased  each  other  Avith  a comet’s  rapidity 
through  my  brain ; the  remembrance  of  our  past  comforts, 
and  our  happiness  too  ? Recovering  after  the  lapse  of  an 
instant,  I called,  “Jane,  Jane,  get  up,  and  make  haste; 
your  mother  is  come  home,  and  is  very  ill  and  faint ; get  a 
light” — she  Avas  quickly  at  my  side — “get  a light,”  for  the 
little  unfriendly  flame  had  ceased  to  burn. 

“But  Avhere  are  you,  mother?”  said  Jane.  “Jane, 
child,”  said  I,  angrily,  “your  mother  is  hei-e ; get  alight 
directly.”  “ We  haven’t  a bit  of  candle,  father.”  “Then 
get  some  Av'ood  out  of  the  back  room — break  up  some  little 
bits — 0,  do  make  haste.”  “We  haven’t  a bit  of  Avood, 


4 


THE  EVENTFUL  TWELVE  HOURS. 


father.”  “Child,  child — ” “Yes,  father,  but  we  haven’t 
any.”  My  poor  Avife  at  this  moment  gave  a kind  of  sob, 
and  with  a slight  struggle,  as  if  for  breath,  sunk  heavier  in 
my  arms.  I tried  to  hold  her  up  in  an  easier  posture,  call- 
ing to  her  in  a tender  manner,  “ Mary,  my  dear  Mary  but 
my  sensations  and  my  conscience  almost  choked  me.  In 
this  moment  of  anguish  and  perplexity,  my  Avife,  for  aught 
I knew,  dead  in  my  arms — Avithout  light,  without  fuel,  Avith- 
out  food,  Avithout  credit,  Mrs.  Mason  returned.  Jane  had 
managed  to  make  the  fire  burn  up,  just  so  as  to  disclose  our 
wretched  situation.  “Your  wife  ill?”  said  Mrs.  Mason, 
hastily  stepping  forAvard — “very  ill,  I fear,  James,  and  wet 
and  cold — run  hastily,  James,”  reaching  herself  a broken 
chair,  “ and  call  in  Mrs.  Wright,  and  place  your  Avife  on  my 
lap.”  This  I immediately  did,  and  as  I opened  the  door  to 
go  out,  I heard  Mrs.  Mason  ask  Jane  to  get  a light — and 
shame  made  me  secretly  rejoice,  that  I had  escaped  the 
humiliation,  for  the  present,  of  confessing  that  we  had  not 
even  a bit  of  a candle  in  the  house. 

Mrs.  Wright  Avas  preparing  for  supper:  they  were  reg- 
ular and  early  folks,  and  my  heart  sunk  within  me  Avhen,  in 
mv  huny,  I unceremoniously  opened  the  door — I mean  the 
contrast  I saAv  between  their  cottage  and  my  own ; a clean 
cloth  Avas  laid,  with  spoons,  and  basins,  and  Avhite,  clean 
plates,  and  knives  and  forks,  Avith  every  other  necessary 
comfort.  Wright  Avas  sitting  with  his  back  towards  the 
fire,  with  a candle  in  one  hand  and  a book  in  the  other, 
reading  to  his  wife,  who  Avas  leaning  forward,  and  just  in 
the  act  of  taking  a pot  off  the  hanger,  in  Avhich  it  Avould  be 
easy  to  guess,  was  something  Avarm  for  supper.  The  fire 
and  candle  gave  a cheerful  light,  and  every  thing  looked 
“comfortable.”  “My  AA-ife  is  taken  A-ery  ill,”  said  I,  “and 
Mrs.  Mason,  Avho  has  just  stepped  in,  begged  me  to  call  in 
vour  help.”  “ Mrs.  Mason  at  your  house  now  ?”  said  Mrs. 
Wright ; “ come,  Wright,  reach  me  my  cloak,  and  let  us 
make  haste  and  go.”  We  were  all  at  the  door,  when  Mrs. 


THE  EVENTFUL  TWELVE  HOURS. 


5 


Wright  said,  “ What,  come  to  fetch  us  without  a lantern  ? 
and  ours  is  at  the  glazier’s.  What  are  we  to  do?”  “ The 
distance  is  very  short,”  I said.  “ Yes,”  said  Wright,  “ but 
long  enough  for  an  accident ; how  I do  like  necessaries ;” 
adding,  in  an  undertone,  as  he  pulled  his  wife  along,  some- 
thing about  “ enougli  for  tavern  debts,  but  nothing  to  buy 
necessaries.” 

On  opening  my  cottage  door,  I called  out — for  no  one 
was  in  the  room — “Mrs.  Mason,  are  you  up  stairs?  how  is 
Mary?  here  is  Mrs.  Wright;  shall  I come  up?”  No  one 
answered,  and  Mrs.  Wright  passed  me,  going  softly  up 
stairs,  saying,  in  a low  tone,  as  she  ascended,  “James,  you 
had  better  make  up  a good  tire,  and  get  some  water  heated 
as  fast  as  you  can.”  Again  I was  aghast.  “ Get  some 
water  heated,”  said  I ; and  the  wretchedness  of  our  bedless 
bed  and  furnitureless  room  crossed  my  mind  at  the  same 
time.  Mrs.  Mason,  at  this  moment,  leaned  over  the  banis- 
ters, and  said,  in  a soft  voice,  “ James,  fetch  the  doctor,  and 
lose  no  time ; make  haste,  for  life  may  depend  on  it.”  My 
wretchedness  seemed  now  complete ; the  very  tire  of  delir- 
ium and  confusion  seemed  to  seize  upon  my  brain ; and 
hastily  calling  out  to  Jane  to  attend  upon  Mr.  Wright,  I 
snatched  up  my  hat,  and  pushed  by  my  neighbor  without 
heeding  some  inquiries  he  had  begun  about  the  necessaries 
that  were  then  so  much  required. 

It  rained,  and  was  very  dark ; the  road  to  the  doctor’s 
was  not  the  best,  and  he  lived  rather  more  than  a mile  oft’; 
it  was  impossible  to  proceed  faster  than  a slow,  cautious 
walk.  I was  now  alone,  and,  in  much  bitterness  of  spirit, 
began  to  upbraid  myself,  and  those  companions  of  my  folly 
who  had  led  me  on  to  habits  that  had  first  disgraced,  and 
then  brought  me  to  severe  ruin.  With  what  vivid  bright- 
ness did  the  first  year  of  our  marriage,  its  comforts  and  its 
hopes,  again  pass  before  me ; and  when  my  mind  led  me  on 
through  all  its  clianging  scenes,  up  to  the  moment  when 
Mrs.  Mason,  in  her  low,  subdued  tone  of  voice,  called  to  me 

•Lmi..  Vol.  M 


G 


THE  EVENTFUL  TWELVE  HOURS. 


to  fetch  the  doctor,  and  to  mind  I lost  no  time ; I could 
only  i-ealize  my  wife  as  dying,  and  myself  the  cruel  tyrant 
who  had,  by  neglect,  ill  usage,  and  partial  starvation, 
brought  her  to  an  untimely  end. 

When  I entered  the  doctor’s  house,  “ Is  that  you,  James 
King?”  said  he,  sharply;  “do  you  want  me?”  “Yes, 
sir,”  said  I ; “ my  wife  is  very  ill,  and  Mi's.  Mason,  who 
called  in  just  at  the  time  she  was  taken,  desired  me  to  come 
and  to  request  your  attendance  upon  her.  I am  afraid,  sir, 
it  is  no  little  affair.”  “ Mrs.  Mason,  Mrs.  Mason,”  said  the 
doctor ; “ I am  inclined  to  think  Mi's.  Mason  has  better  drugs 
in  her  shop  for  your  wife’s  complaint,  than  my  shop  affords, 
and  I expect  I shall  have  to  tell  her  so.”  I hung  down  my 
head  with  shame ; I understood  what  he  meant.  He  then 
moved  towards  the  door,  putting  on  his  greatcoat  as  he 
walked  along.  “But  stop,”  said  he,  just  as  we  got  to  the 
outer  door,  “how  did  you  come — no  lantern?”  “I  can 
carry  your  lantern  before  you,  sir,”  said  I.  “ Yes,”  said  he, 
“ and  I may  bring  it  back.”  “ But  I will  return  with  you, 
sir  ; my  wife  will  most  likely  want  some  medicine.”  “ Yes, 
James,”  said  he,  “and  if  she  does,  I shall  want  the  money 
longer  still.”  I had  no  word  to  reply,  it  was  no  time  to 
begin  being  independent.  The  doctor’s  large  glass  lantern 
was  bi  ought,  and  our  journey  back  was  quickly  performed. 
I should  have  thought  a great  deal  of  giving  'Is.  %d.  for 
such  a lantern,  if  I had  really  required  just  such  an  one ; 
yet  I had  paid  as  many  pounds  on  my  scores,  and  thought 
nothing  at  all  about  it. 

On  getting  home,  I found  that  somehow  it  had  been 
managed  to  make  up  a good  fire,  and  the  tea-kettle  was 
boiling,  and  Mrs.  Mason  was  just  making  a little  tea.  “ How 
is  Mary  ?”  said  I,  hardly  daring  to  look  Mrs.  Mason  in  the 
face.  “Well,  Mrs.  Mason,”  said  the  doctor,  “praj^  what 
is  the  matter  ?”  and  as  the  doctor  spoke,  Mrs.  Mason  took 
up  the  jug  of  tea  she  had  made,  conversed  with  the  doctor 
in  an  undertone  for  half  a minute,  and  both  walked  up 


THE  EVENTFUL  TWELVE  HOURS. 


7 


stairs,  leaving  me  again  to  reflection,  in  fact,  taking  no  no- 
tice of  me.  I sunk  down  heavily  upon  the  chair  that  was 
beside  the  fire,  in  a state  of  exhaustion,  and  while  I was 
wondering  where  all  this  would  end,  was  aroused  by  the 
cry  of  “James,  James,  the  doctor  says  your  wife  must  put 
her  feet  into  warm  water;  so  bring  up  some  directly,  James, 
in  a large  pan  or  bucket,  or  any  thing  that  is  handy ; pray, 
make  haste and  before  I could  reply,  for  I doubted 
whether  there  was  either,  the  door  was  shut,  and  again  I 
Avas  placed  in  a new  difficulty.  However,  I found  an  old 
leaky  pail  and  an  old  broken  pan ; so  I set  the  pail  into  the 
pan  to  catch  the  leakage,  and  together,  they  did  tolerably 
Avell ; but  I felt  considerable  shame  as  I handed  this  lum- 
bering affair  up  stairs,  well  knowing  it  Avould  call  forth 
some  remark. 

I had  just  again  seated  myself  at  the  fire,  when  the 
doctor,  in  no  very  gentle  tone,  called  out,  “James,  here, 
man,  take  this  paper  to  my  office  ; Mr.  Armstrong  Avill  give 
you  some  physic  for  your  Avife,  and  then  it  will  be  twice 
given,  for  I suppose  you  Avill  never  pay  for  it.”  I stared 
at  him,  or  rather  paused  and  hesitated — who  could  tell 
why  ? Avas  it  the  taunts  I was  thus  obliged  to  endure ; or 
Avas  it  bodily  exhaustion  ? I had  eaten  all  the  food  my 
poor  Mary  had  put  into  my  basket  for  my  breakfast ; and, 
as  it  appeared,  all  she  had  in  the  Avorld  ; yet  I had  managed 
to  borroAv  sixpence  at  noon,  intending  to  buy  me  a loaf  and 
cheese,  and  half  a pint  of  beer  for  my  dinner ; but  ventur- 
ing upon  half  a pint  of  beer  first,  I called  for  another ; and, 
becoming  thirsty,  for  a pint ; and  so  my  dinner  and  my 
afternoon’s  Avork  Avere  both  lost  together.  It  must  now 
have  been  nearly  ten  o’clock,  and  I had  tasted  no  food,  as 
I said  before,  since  breakfast.  I felt  faint,  and  Avell  I might ; 
however,  Avith  a heavy  step  and  a heavier  heart,  taking  up 
the  doctor’s  lantern,  and  looking  round  upon  the  empty 
Avretchedness  before  me,  I again  set  out  for  the  doctor’s. 
And  did  I not  also  think  over  neighbor  Wright’s  comforta- 


8 


THE  EVENTFUL  TWELVE  HOURS. 


ble,  cheerful  room,  and  his  boiling  pot ; while  I,  who  had 
that  day  spent  a borrowed  sixpence  upon  beer,  had  not 
even  a crust  of  bread  for  myself  or  family  ? And  did  I 
forget  the  pence,  and  then  the  shillings,  and  then  the 
pounds  I had  paid  at  public-houses ; selling,  and  pawning 
my  bed  from  under  me,  and  my  clothes  from  off  my  back, 
and  all  to  gain  misery  and  want,  and  lose  my  good 
name  ? 

Mr.  Armstrong  was  a kind-hearted  young  man,  and  soon 
prepared  the  medicines,  and  by  kind  and  cheerful  hope^ 
concerning  my  poor  Mary,  and  a little  civil  conversation, 
raised  my  spirits,  and  I walked  back  somewhat  lighter  of 
heart ; but  I was  thoroughl}^  wet,  and  the  cold  rain  pierced 
my  very  marrow,  for  I was  wearing  summer  clothing  in  the 
winter  season — I had  no  other.  Cold  and  wet,  exhausted 
and  miserable,  I once  more  lifted  the  latch  of  my  own  cot- 
tage door.  The  candle  was  dimly  burning.  My  fears  arose, 
and  my  heart  sunk  within  me  ; “ Is  Mary  worse  ?”  said  I. 
“She  is  no  better,”  said  Mr.  Wright,  who  was  sitting  over 
the  dying  embers — “ no  better — heavy  work,  James.” 

I placed  the  medicine  upon  the  table,  and  sat  down, 
exhausted  and  wretched.  Whose  situation  so  low,  could 
he  have  known  all,  that  would  not  have  pitied  me  ? Wright 
rose,  and  carried  the  medicines  up  stairs ; and  in  another 
minute  all  was  the  stillness  of  death.  I could  have  borne 
any  thing  but  this — at  least  I so  felt — but  under  this  op- 
pressive stillness,  my  feelings  gave  way  in  torrents  of  tears, 
and  every  moment  brought  a fresh  accusation  against  my- 
self for  my  past  doings ; and  again  I looked  around  me,  as 
well  as  my  tearful  eyes  and  dimly-lighted  room  would  allow, 
and  contrasted  all  with  John  Wright’s.  “So  comfortable,” 
said  I,  involuntarily.  Indistinct  sounds  and  cautious  step- 
pings were  now  heard  above ; and  while  I was  raising  my- 
self up  to  listen,  in  order  to  catch,  if  possible,  something 
that  would  acquaint  me  with  the  state  of  my  poor  Mary, 
the  bedroom  door  opened,  and  down  came  Wright  and  his 


THE  EVENTFUL  TWELVE  HOURS.  9 

wife,  the  latter  carefully  lighting  the  doctor,  Mrs.  Mason 
being  close  behind  him.  I tried  to  recover  myself  a little, 
and  to  assume  something  like  the  appearance  of  courage ; 
and  in  a half-choked,  coughing  voice,  said,  “ How  is  my 
poor  wife,  sir?”  The  doctor,  with  a severity  of  manner, 
and  imitating  my  manner  of  speaking,  replied,  “ You  should 
have  coughed  sooner,  James;”  then  turning  to  Mrs.  Mason, 
said,  “Remember,  quiet  is  the  best  medicine  now ; indeed, 
it  is  food  and  medicine  in  her  present  state ; don’t  teaze  her 
about  any  thing ; at  half  past,  mind — and  again  at  twelve, 
until  the  pain  subsides,  when  sleep  will  follow.” 

I shrunk  back  at  the  words  “ half  past,”  which  reminded 
me  that  I had  not  even  a twenty-shilling  clock  in  the  house. 

“James,”  said  the  doctor,  “have  you  no  time  in  the 
house?”  “No,  I suppose  not,”  he  answered  himself. 
“Well,  then,  you  must  guess  at  it;  oh  dear,  bad  work 
indeed.  Come,  James,  put  that  bit  of  candle  into  the  lan- 
tern ; I hope  it  does  not  rain  now.” 

Wright  opened  the  door,  and  I walked  out  with  the 
lantern,  the  doctor  following,  and,  buttoning  his  coat 
closely  round  him,  remarked  upon  the  darkness  of  the 
night.  I walked  on  with  an  unsteady  step,  feeling  as  if 
every  yard  of  ground  I strode  over  would  be  the  last. 
But,  urged  on  by  my  situation,  I reached  the  doctor’s 
house  without  any  remark  from  him  upon  my  wearied 
step,  and  pulled  his  bell  in  rather  a hasty  manner. 

“ You  are  in  a hurry,  James,”  said  he,  “ you  forget  the 
time  of  night ; a gentle  pull  would  have  waked  the  attend- 
ant without  disturbing  my  family.  My  family  are  veiy 
regular,  James,  and  I make  it  a rule  never  to  disturb  them 
when  it  can  be  avoided ; perhaps  you  think  such  things  of 
no  consequence : regularity,  James,  and  sobriety,  are  two 
very  principal  things  in  a family.” 

By  this  time  the  attendant  appeared,  and,  giving  him 
the  lantern  and  thanking  the  doctor  for  his  kind  attention, 
I left  the  door  to  return  home.  The  door  closed,  and  my 

VOL.  X. 


10 


THE  EVENTFUL  TWELVE  HOURS. 


situation  was  a very  painful  one ; the  sudden  change  from 
light  to  utter  darkness  obliged  me  to  stand  still  a few  min- 
utes before  I could  venture  to  move,  but  a world  of  sensa- 
tions ran  through  my  mind,  and  distracted  me  more  than 
ever ; the  weakness  of  my  body  prevented  my  checking  its 
sensations  ; and,  could  I have  weighed  in  the  balance  of 
reason,  to  say  nothing  of  religion,  at  this  moment,  all  foolish, 
sinful  pleasures — falsely  so  called — of  drinking,  with  the 
distress  of  mind  and  weariness  of  body  I then  endured,  and 
had  endured  on  this  one  single  night,  how  light  would  they 
have  seemed.  Yes,  even  if  I had  not  included  the  loss  of 
positive  property  and  health. 

Once  again,  then,  I reached  my  home.  All  was  still ; 
but  soon  Mrs.  Mason  came  down.  Before  I could  speak, 
she  said,  “ Mary  is  better,  James  ; she  has  fallen  into  a nice 
sleep.”  She  spoke  kindly,  and  looked  kindly.  I tried  to 
answer  her,  but  my  feelings  choked  me ; and  seeing  my 
effort  to  suppress  them,  she  continued,  “ God  has  dealt 
very  mercifully,  James,  towards  you,  in  so  blessing  the 
means  that  have  been  used  ; but  you  have  had  no  supper ; 
you  will  find  some  nice  warm  soup  by  the  side  of  the  fire 
there  ; Mrs.  Wright  sent  it  in  for  you,  by  her  husband, 
when  she  i-eturned  home  : come,  James,  eat  it  while  it  is 
Avarm,  it  Avill  do  you  good ; your  little  girl  and  boy  have 
both  had  some,  and  they  are  now  warm  in  bed  and  fast 
asleep.” 

“Mr.  and  Mrs.  Wright  are  very  kind,”  I added,  “and 
you  are  kind ; what  should  I have  done  but  for  you  and 
them  ?” 

“ Done,  James  ?”  said  she  mildly  ; “ done,  James  ? see 
how  God  orders  his  dispensations  ; ‘ in  the  midst  of  wrath 
he  remembers  mere}’,’  and  I trust  he  has  purposes  of  mercy 
in  this  event  toAvards  you  and  your  family ; but  beware, 
James,  for  the  Bible  expressly  says,  ‘My  son,  despise  not 
the  chastening  of  the  Lord and  again,  ‘ whom  the  Lord 
loveth,  he  chasteneth.’  But  eat.  your  supper ; I will  step 


THE  EVENTFUL  TWELVE  HOURS. 


11 


up  stairs  and  see  if  your  wife  is  still  sleeping,  and  if  she  is, 
I will  come  down  and  chat  a little  with  you.” 

As  she  went  softly  up  stairs  my  eyes  followed  her,  and 
I said  to  myself.  This  is  one  of  your  religious  ones,  is  it,  that 
I have  so  often  joined  in  jeering  at  ? Surely  I ate  my  sup- 
per with  a thankful  heart,  and  was  much  strengthened  by 
it.  Mrs.  Mason  soon  returned,  and  stepping  into  the  back 
room,  where  Jane  lay,  and  her  little  brother,  brought  out 
three  or  four  billets  of  wood,  and  a cheerful  fire  was  soon 
made  ; so  that  with  my  warm,  nourishing  supper,  the  cheer- 
ful fire,  and  Mrs.  Masoir’s  mild  and  cheerful  countenance 
and  manner',  I regained  my  spii'its,  and  a considerable  por- 
tion of  my  strength.  After  a little  pause,  she  said, 

“ James,  when  Mary  recovers,  if  it  should  please  God 
to  order  it  so,  great  cai’e  will  be  required  lest  she  should 
relapse.  You  would  not  wish  to  lose  her,  James  ; she  has, 
I believe,  been  a kind  and  affectionate  wife  to  you,  and  a 
tender  mother  to  your  children.  When  you  were  first  mar- 
ried every  thing  went  well  with  you,  and  it  was  a remark  I 
often  made  of  you  as  a neighbor,  that  you  wanted  nothing 
but  the  true  fear  of  God  in  your  heart,  and  faith  in  our 
blessed  Saviour,  to  make  you  a pattern  to  alt  around  you. 
I used  often  to  say  a few  words  to  Mary,  and  she  always 
received  them  meekly,  but  I seldom  saw  you,  and  your 
manner  never  gave  me  any  encouragement  to  talk  to  you  on 
religious  subjects.  James,  experience  has  enabled  me  to 
make  one  reinark,  that  absence  from  divine  worshi]},  as  a 
regular  or  customary  thing,  is  an  almost  unerring  sign  of 
the  absence  of  religion  from  the  heart ; and  it  is  indeed 
seldom  that  I have  seen  you  in  your  place  on  the  Sabbath- 
day.  The  Sabbath  is  a blessed  day  when  it  is  spent  aright.” 
So  leaving  me,  she  again  went  up  stairs,  remarking  that 
Mr.  Wright  had  been  home  to  her  house,  to  explain  the 
cause  of  her  absence,  (and  as  I tolerably  well  guessed,  this 
partly  explained  the  mystery  of  fire  and  candle,  and  tea  and 
sugar,  and  bread,)  adding,  “Mrs.  Wright  will  come  in  at 


12 


THE  EVENTFUL  TWELVE  HOURS. 


daylight,  and  will  stay  with  Mary,  and  that  will  allow  me 
to  attend  to  my  moiming’s  business : you  know%  James,  the 
Bible  says,  ‘diligent  in  business,  fervent  in  spiiit,  seiw-ing 
the  Lord.’  ” 

I longed  to  go  and  see  my  poor  Mary,  but  I was  not 
asked,  and  I supposed  it  right  that  it  should  be  so.  I now- 
thought  of  my  poor  children  ; and  going  into  their  room,  I 
felt  distressed  to  find  them  so  badly  provided  with  bed- 
clothes. I kissed  them,  and  secretly  prayed,  in  a kind  of 
way,  that  I might  be  spared  to  care  more  for  them  than  I 
had  lately  done.  I sat  down,  and  began  to  reflect  upon  all 
the  circumstances  of  the  past  day,  and  of  this  eventful  night ; 
but  I soon  fell  into  a sound  sleep,  which  continued  until 
Mrs.  Mason  awoke  me,  informing  me  that  it  was  nearly 
daylight,  and  reminded  me  of  her  intentions  to  return  home 
to  her  duties  as  soon  as  Mrs.  Wright  should  arrive.  “And 
wh)'^  wait  for  Mrs.  Wright,  madam  ?”  said  I ; “ surely  I can 
attend  upon  Mary  now,  or  at  least  until  Mrs.  Wright  does 
come.”  “ It  is  very  natural,”  said  Mrs.  Mason,  “that  you 
should  desire  to  attend  upon  your  wife,  and  think  yourself 
capable  of  doing  so  ; but  my  most  particular  directions  from 
the  doctor  were,  not  to  allow-  j-ou  to  see  your  wife,  if  I could 
prevent  you,  until  he  had  seen  her  once  more ; and  you  may 
remember,  James,  in  how-  grave  a manner  he  directed  she 
might  not  in  any  w-ay  be  teazed,  nor — but,  James,  to  deal 
honestly  wdth  you,  and  rightly  as  I consider  it,  whatevei 
may  be  your  future  conduct  to  your  wife,  your  beha^'ior  to 
her  for  these  last  three  years  has  not  been  quite  kind  ; ana 
as  grief  and  depression  have  veiy  much  to  do  w-ith  her  pres- 
ent illness,  w-e  are  all  of  opinion  that  you  had  better  refrain 
from  going  to  see  her  until  she  is  more  composed.  You 
have  bruised,  James;  seek  now  to  heal.” 

I was  touched  with  the  reproof ; I was,  perhaps,  more 
touched  by  the  manner.  Mrs.  Mason  was  one  w-ho  sought 
to  win  souls  : she  w-on  my  esteem  and  confidence,  and  I 
felt  that  if  Mrs.  Mason  could  talk  to  me  thus,  I had  still 


THE  EVENTFUL  TWELVE  HOURS. 


13 


something  to  lose.  I went  to  call  Mrs.  Wright.  On  my 
return,  Mrs.  Mason  was  up  stairs,  but  she  had  placed  nearly 
a whole  loaf  and  a piece  of  butter  on  the  table,  and  some 
tea  and  sugar,  and  the  kettle  was  singing  by  the  fireside. 
These  were  times  of  deep  thought  to  me.  On  Mrs.  Wright’s 
arrival,  I thanked  her  for  her  great  kindness,  and  hoped 
better  times  were  in  store.  “Yes,”  she  replied,  “better 
times  may  be  in  store  for  you ; I hope  they  are ; you  have 
certainly  bought  your  corn  at  a very  dear  market  lately, 
but  you  may  find  a better  one  to  go  to  yet.”  Mrs.  Mason 
now  appeared,  and  ready  to  go  home ; the  morning  had 
just  fully  dawned.  “Come,  James,”  said  she,  “you  must 
go  with  me ; I want  to  send  back  a few  things  to  Mary ; 
and  mind,  you  must  not  leave  the  house  to-day  after  your 
return,  and  your  little  girl  ought  to  be  sent  to  account  for 
your  absence  from  work — that  is,  James,  if — ” 

“ If,  madam  ?”  said  I quickly  ; “ if  what  ?” 

“ Yes,  James,  if  you  think  you  can  maintain  a new  char- 
acter, and  desire  really  to  become  again,  what  I well  remem- 
ber you  once  was,  a respectable  man  ; yes,  James,  a respect- 
able man ; for  remember,  that  word  is  the  just  right  of 
every  man  who  acts  as  every  man  ought  to  do.  The  word 
seems  to  surprise  you : it  is  a sad  mistake  that  seems  in- 
sensibly to  have  crept  into  common  acceptance  in  these 
days,  that  respectability  must  mean  something  belonging 
rather  to  riches  and  rank,  than  honesty  and  uprightness  of 
character ; respectability  is  as  much  the  birthright  of  your- 
self as  of  young  ’squire  Mills ; indeed,  I may  say  that  on 
this  point,  you  both  started  in  life  exactly  equal : his  father 
was  indeed  respectable  in  every  sense  of  the  word ; and 
your  father  was  certainly  nothing  behind  him  ; both  faith- 
fully discharged  the  duties  of  that  station  ‘into  which  it 
pleased  God  to  call  them,’  and  this  I consider,  from  the 
king  to  the  cottager,  is  to  be  respectable ; but,  James,  the 
young  ’squire  is  as  respectable  a man,  I am  happy  to  say, 
as  his  father  was,  and  why  should  not  you  become  as  re- 
14* 


14 


THE  EVENTFUL  TWELVE  HOURS. 


spectable  as  yours  ? I have  lived  to  see  many  changes,  hut 
the  change  I most  mourn  over,  is  the  change  of  principle 
in  my  neighbors.  Their  i-espectability  seems  to  be  ex- 
changed for  finer  clothes  and  fewer  fireside,  fewer  home 
comforts  ; and  I happen  also  to  know,  that  if  very  much  of 
the  grain  that  has  been  made  into  poisonous  beer  and  whis- 
key had  been  made  into  good  wholesome  bread,  both  you 
and  I,  James,  should  have  been  better  ofif,  I think,  than  we 
are  now,  for  I have  had  my  struggles  as  well  as  you ; so 
have  many  others.  I have  worked  early  and  late,  taking 
care  of  the  pence,  to  maintain  my  respectability ; yet,  let  me 
again  repeat  it,  your  father  and  mother  were  respectable  to 
the  day  of  their  death,  and  many  in  this  village  would  gladly 
see  their  only  child  following  their  footsteps,  and  seeking 
the  same  inheritance  they  now  possess  ‘ in  mansions  in  the 
skies.’  But  the  road  leads  down  hill  to  vice  and  folly,  and 
I might  add,  the  gulf  of  ruin  lies  at  the  bottom ; you  may 
be  far  down  it ; I fear  you  are,  yet  there  is  a hand  that  even 
now  beckons  to  you,  and  says,  ‘ Turn,  turn,  I have  no  pleas- 
ure in  the  death  of  him  that  dieth  ; wherefore  turn  and  live 
})ut,  James,  you  are  not  ignorant  of  jmur  Bible.” 

I tried  to  conceal  my  emotions,  for  it  was  a very  long 
time  since  I bad  heard  such  words  as  these.  My  Bible  and 
the  house  of  God  had  been  long  entirely  neglected.  Mrs. 
Mason  perceived  that  I was  affected,  and  moving  towards 
the  door,  said,  “ Yes,  James,  it  is  a slippery,  down-hill  path 
that  leads  to  ruin,  and  many  there  be  that  walk  therein. 
Heaven  may  be  said  to  lie  upw'ard,  yet  ‘its  ways  are  ways 
of  pleasantness,  and  all  its  paths  are  peace.’  But^come,  it 
is  broad  daylight,  and  I must  hasten  home.” 

As  we  passed  neighbor  Wright’s  cottage,  I had  not  for- 
gotten the  comfort  that  was  within,  and  I said  secretly,  “I’ll 
see  what’s  to  be  done.”  The  arrival  of  Mrs.  Mason  at  home 
seemed  to  give  to  all  the  liveliest  pleasure  and  satisfaction ; 
and  their  inquiries  after  m3'  poor  wife  were  made  with  a 
kindliness  of  manner  that  surprised  me.  “ The3’  respect 


THE  EVENTFUL  TVFELVE  HOURS. 


15 


her,”  said  I to  myself ; they  took  little  notice  of  me,  yet 
treated  me  with  more  civility  than  I had  a right  to  expect, 
Ml'S.  Mason  soon  put  up  a few  little  things  and  directed  me 
to  give  them  to  Mrs.  Wiight,  and  weighing  me  a pound  of 
bacon,  and  putting  a large  loaf  and  half  a pound  of  cheese 
into  the  basket  with  it,  with  some  soap  and  candles,  said, 
“ I shall  charge  these  to  your  bill,  James.  Patty,  go  into 
the  garden  and  cut  James  a couple  of  nice  cabbages  ; I dare 
say  he  will  know  what  to  do  with  them.”  Having  had  this 
unexpected  provision  made  me  for  the  day,  and  receiving 
parting  words  of  encouragement  from  this  kind  friend,  I 
returned  home.  I found  my  children  up  and  washed,  and 
breakfast  ready.  Mrs.  Wright  had  kindly  done  this.  Jane 
looked  cheerful,  and  my  little  Harry  came  edging  towards 
me,  as  if  he  did  not  know  what  to  make  of  all  this. 
“ Mother’s  so  ill,  Jane  says,  father— is  she  ; is  she,  father  ?” 
looking  up  in  my  face  as  I sat  down,  “is  she?” 

“ She  is  better  now,  my  boy,”  I said. 

“ Better,  father  ? who  made  her  ill  ? you  didn’t  make 
her  ill,  did  you,  father  ? — nice  bread,  father — did  mother 
bring  this  nice  bread  home,  father?  speak,  father,  you  don’t 
speak.” 

I could  not  trust  myself  to  answer ; so  I rose,  for  I was 
much  affected  at  the  thought  that  Mrs.  Mason  had  cared 
for  these  babes  and  their  mother,  but  1 had  neglected 
them,  and  foolishly  squandered  away  their  comforts  and 
even  their  necessary  bread. 

Mrs.  Wright  went  home;  but  returned  soon  after  we 
liad  finished  breakfast ; and  by  the  time  I had  put  things 
a little  to  rights,  the  doctor  called.  His  “Well,  James,” 
filled  me  with  no  very  pleasing  sensations.  “ I hope  we 
shall  have  a change,  eh,  James  ?”  and  passing  on,  went  up 
stairs.  Ah,  thought  I,  I hope  so  too^  for  I know  what  you 
mean.  He  soon  came  down  ; said  my  wife  might  get  up  if 
she  liked,  taking  a little  care,  and,  “ after  to-day,  give  her 
1 pill  every  noon  for  dinner  off  a loin  of  mutton,  eh,  James  ? 


16 


THE  EVENTFUL  TWELVE  HOURS. 


A few  more  broiled  pills  for  her,  and  a pint  less  of  liquor  foi 
you,  and  your  old  father  and  mother  would  soon  come  to 
life  again.  Your  savings’  bank  is  at  the  tavern,  and  the 
landlad}^  of  the  Stag  keeps  your  accounts,  I believe,  eh, 
•James?  I shall  charge  you  nothing  for  this.”  This  was 
the  doctor.  I received  his  reproofs  humbly,  and  certainly 
thought,  you  have  been  very  kind,  but  I also  thought,  you 
ai'e  not  Mrs.  Mason. 

Soon  after  this,  my  poor  Mary  came  down  stairs,  and  I 
at  once  confessed  my  sorrow  for  my  past  conduct,  and  my 
determination  to  drink  no  more ; and,  to  conclude,  mj-  wife 
slowly  recovered,  and,  I may  add,  I recovered  also ; but  I 
was  very  far  down  the  hill,  and  consequently  found  it  a long 
and  hard  tug  to  get  up  again  ; but  Mrs.  Mason  encouraged 
me,  Mrs.  Wright  helped  me,  the  doctor  cheered  me,  Mr. 
Armstrong  praised  me,  our  kind  minister  instructed  me,  my 
wife  assisted  me,  and,  as  a crowning  point  of  all,  the  bless- 
ing of  God  rested  on  me.  I worked  hard,  I prayed  in  my 
family,  I paid  my  debts,  I clothed  my  children,  I redeemed 
my  bed,  I mended  my  windows,  I planted  my  garden  and 
sold  garden  stuff,  instead  of  buying ; I bought  me  a wheel- 
barrow, I mended  my  chairs  and  table,  I got  me  a clock ; 
and  now  here  I am,  but  never  shall  I forget  John  Wright 
or  his  wife,  how  long  soever  I may  remember  my  other 
kind  friends,  and  most  of  all,  Mrs.  Mason.  But  there  were 
no  temperance  societies  in  those  days,  or  I think  I should 
have  been  reclaimed  sooner. 


'I'  n E 


LOST  MECHANIC  RESTOKED. 


Near  the  close  of  1831,  says  Mr.  C , of  Hartford, 

Conn.,  I was  requested  by  a pious  and  benevolent  lady,  to 
take  into  my  employ  a young  man  who  had  become  intem- 
perate. I objected  that  the  influence  of  such  a man  would 
he  injurious  to  my  other  workmen,  and  especially  my  appren- 
tices. But  the  kind-hearted  lady  urged  her  request,  saying 
that  he  was  willing  to  come  under  an  engagement  not  to 
drink  at  all,  and  to  conform  strictly  to  all  the  regulations  of 
the  establishment;  that  she  received  him  into  her  family 
■ when  a hoy,  and  felt  a deep  interest  in  liis  welfare ; that  he 
had  learned  a trade,  and  was  an  excellent  workman;  had 
become  hopefully  pious,  and  united  with  one  of  our  churches; 
had  married  a very  worthy  young  woman,  but  his  intemper- 
ance had  blasted  his  fair  prospects.  He  was  now  sensible 
of  his  danger ; and  she  believed  his  salvation  for  this,  if  not 
for  a future  world,  would  turn  on  my  decision. 


2 


THE  LOST  MECHANIC  RESTORED. 


I consented  to  make  the  trial;  and  he  came,  binding 
liimself,  by  a MTitten  contract,  to  receive  no  part  of  his  wages 
into  his  own  hands,  and  to  forfeit  whatever  should  he  due  to 
him,  in  case  he  became  intoxicated.  He  succeeded  remark- 
ably in  my  business,  was  industrious  and  faitliful,  and  strictlv 
temperate  and  regular  in  all  his  habits. 

But  in  the  siunmer  of  1832,  he  was  by  some  means 
induced  to  taste  again  an  intoxicating  drurk,  and  a fit  of 
drimken  insanity  ensued,  wliich  contmued  about  a fortnight. 
Knowing  that  his  wife  had  some  money,  he  gave  her  no 
peace,  day  nor  night,  till  he  got  possession  of  it.  He  then 
took  the  boat  for  New  York,  spent  the  money,  and  after  bar- 
tering some  of  his  clothes,  returned,  a most  destitute  and 
wi'etched  object. 

After  he  had  become- sober  and  rational  once  more,  I 
happened  to  meet  liim  in  the  street,  and  asked  Imn  why  he 
did  not  come  to  work  as  usual.  With  a voice  trembhng 
and  suppressed,  and  with  a look  of  grief,  self-reproach,  and 
despair  that  I shaU.  never  forget,  he  said,  “ I can  never 
come  into  yomr  shop  again.  I have  not  only  violated  my 
contract  w ith  you,  but  I have  treated  you  with  the  basest 
ingratitude*  proved  myself  unworthy  of  your  confidence,  and 
destroyed  the  last  hope  of  my  reformation.” 

I assured  bun  of  my  increased  desire  for  his  welfare ; he 
retm-ned  to  his  emplojunent,  and  liis  attention  to  business 
evinced  the  sincerity  of  his  confessions. 

But  not  more  than  three  months  had  elapsed  before  he 
was  taken  again  in  the  toils  of  his  old  deceiver ; and  at  this 
time  he  was  so  furious  and  munanageable,  that  he  was  ar- 
rested and  conunitted  to  the  w'orkhouse.  He  was  soon  re- 
leased, and  engaged  once  more  in  my  business.  He  continued 
for  about  twn  months,  when  he  fell  again ; and  after  a frenz}- 
of  a week,  came  to  me  and  begged  me  to  take  lihn  to  the 
workhouse,  as  the  only  means  by  Avhich  he  should  get  sober. 
He  remained  there  a few-  days,  and  then  returned  to  liis  work. 

Such  was  his  history : a few  months  sober,  mdustrious, 
and  obliging  in  my  shop ; Idnd,  attentive,  and  aSectionate 
in  liis  family ; then  a week  furiously  drunk,  absent  from  my 
shop,  violent  and  abusii^e  in  his  family ; then  at  the  AA'ork- 
house ; and  then  sober,  and  at  home  again. 

He  had  already  been  excormnimicated  from  the  church 
for  his  intemperance,  had  become  a terror  to  liis  wife,  who 


THE  LOST  MECHANIC  RESTORED. 


3 


frequently  sent  for  me  to  protect  her  from  his  violence,  and 
seemed  to  he  utterly  abandoned. 

In  the  month  of  May,  1833,  he  was  again  missing;  and 
no  one,  not  even  his  wife,  knew  what  had  become  of  him. 
But  in  the  course  of  the  smnmer  she  received  a letter  from 
liim,  in  which  he  said  he  had  got  emplo3Tiient,  and  wished 
her,  without  informing  me  where  he  was,  to  come  and  live 
with  him.  She  accordingly  removed  to  liis  ncAv  residence, 
and  1 heard  nothing  from  either  of  them. 

About  two  years  and  a half  after  this,  he  came  into  my 
shop  one  day;  hut  hoAV  changed.  Instead  of  the  bloated, 
wild,  and  despairing  countenance  that  once  marked  him  as  a 
drunkard,  he  now  wore  an  asq)ect  of  cheerfulness  and  health, 
of  maidiness  and  self-respect.  I apjjroached,  took  him  by  the 

hand,  and  said,  “Well,  , how  do  you  do?”  “/  ayn 

luell,”  said  he,  shaldng  my  hand  most  cordially.  “Yes,” 
said  I,  “well  in  more  respects  than  one.”  “ Yes,  I am,” 
was  his  emphatic  reply.  “It  is  now  more  than  Uvo  years 
since  I have  tasted  a drop  of  ayiy  thing  that  can  intoxi- 
cate! He  began  by  abstaining  from  ardent  spirits  only; 
“But,”  said  he,  “I  soon  found  that  what  }’’ou  had  so  often  told 
me  was  true;  that  I could  not  reform  hut  by  abstaining 
from  all  that  can  intoxicate.  I have  done  so,  and  you  see 
the  result.” 

I then  inquired  after  the  health  of  his  wife  and  child : 
his  reply  was,  “ They  are  well  and  happy.”  I asked  him 
if  “his  wife  made  him  any  trouble”  now.  “Trouble,” 
said  he,  “no;  and  never  did  make  any:  it  was  I that  made 
the  trouble.  You  told  me  so,  and  I kncAV  it  at  -the  time. 
But  what  ccndd  I do  ? So  long  as  I remained  here,  I could 
not  turn  a corner  in  your  streets  without  passing  a grog-shop. 
I could  not  go  to  my  meals  without  coming  in  contact  Math 
some  associate  Avho  would  try  to  entice  me  to  drink  with 
him;  and  even  the  keepers  of  these  shops  would  try  every 
artifice  to  induce  me  to  drink ; for  they  knew  that  if  they’’ 
could  get  me  to  taste  once,  I should  never  know  M-hen  to  stop, 
and  they  would  be  sure  to  get  a good  bill  against  me. 

“I  have  now  come,”  said  he,  “to  tell  you  M^hy  I left 
you.  It  Avas  because  I knew  that  I should  die  if  I did  not 
leave  off  drinking,  and  I saw  distinctly  that  I could  never 
leave  off  Mobile  I remained  in  Hartford.  My  only  hope  Avas, 
in  going  AAdiere  liquor  Avas  not  to  be  had.” 


4 


THE  LOST  MECHANIC  RESTORED. 


About  two  years  and  a half  after  this,  he  applied  to  me 
lor  further  emplojunent,  as  the  business  he  was  following  had 
failed.  I told  him  there  was  no  man  whom  I should  rather 
employ,  hut  I could  not  think  of  hawng  him  encounter  again 
the  temptations  which  he  had  so  miraculously  escaped.  He 
very  pleasantly  replied,  “ I am  a man  now,  and  do  not  be- 
lieve I have  any  thing  more  to  fear  from  the  temptations  of 
the  city  than  you  have.” 

I told  him  that  I had  confidence  in  the  firmness  of  his 
purpose,  hut  feared  to  see  it  put  to  the  test.  Yet,  as  he 
was  out  of  business,  I consented;  and  no  man  that  I ever 
emplo3"ed  did  better,  or  was  more  deseridng  of  confidence 
and  respect.  He  continued  with  me  till  spring,  when  he 
proposed  to  take  his  work  into  the  countia,’,  so  that  he  could 
he  with  his  family:  the  arrangement  was  made,  and  I em- 
ploy liim  still. 

On  the  fourth  of  Jul)’'  last,  (1839,)  the  Sunda^'-schools 
in  the  town  where  he  resides  made  arrangements  for  a cel- 
ebration, and  I was  invited  to  he  present  and  address  them. 
As  I looked  upon  the  audience,  the  first  countenance  that 
met  my  eye  was  that  of  this  verj'  man,  at  the  head  of  his 
Sunday-school  class.  The  sight  almost  overwhelmed,  me. 
Instead  of  a loathsome,  drunken  maniac — a terror  to  his 
family  and  a curse  to  society,  whose  verj'  presence  was  odious, 
and  his  example  pestilential — he  was  then,  m the  expressive 
language  of  Scripture,  “ clothed,  and  in  his  right  mind  and 
was  devoted  to  the  heaverdj'  work  of  guiding  cliildren  to 
Christ  and  salvation.  He  had  made  a puhhc  profession  of 
religion,  which  he  Avas  daily  honoring  by  a life  of  Christian 
meekness  and  sobriety. 

0,  AA'ho  can  comprehend  the  tide  of  domestic  joy,  of  social 
happiness,  and  of  Christian  consolation  which  floAvs  through 
the  heart  of  this  man  and  his  family,  m consequence  of  this 
change  in  his  habits  ? 

Noaa%  AA'hat  Avas  the  cause  of  this  surprising  change  ? 
"What  AATOught  this  AA'onderful  transformation  in  this  indi- 
A'idual  ? The  AA'hole  stoiy  is  told  in  one  short  hue.  He 
^o^ent  where  intoxicating  liquor  icas  not  sold.  Had  he  re- 
mained in  tliis  cit\',  he  Avould  prohahh'  long  since  haA'e  been 
laid  in  the  drunkard’s  graA-e. 


PUBLISHED  BA'  THE  .AMERICAN  TR.4CT  SOCIETT. 


REFORMATION  OF  DRUNKARDS. 


Truly  we  live  in  an  age  of  wonders.  Under  peculiar 
influences,  hundreds  and  thousands  of  once  hopeless  drunk- 
ards are  becoming  sober  men — yet  the  work  of  reform  has 
but  commenced.  It  is  computed  that  there  are  in  the  land 
no  less  than  five  hundred  thousand  habitual  inebriates.  The 
condition  of  each  individual  calls  for  sympathy  and  aid, 
that  he  may  become  a sober  man,  and,  through  the  blessing 
of  God,  gain  eternal  life. 

For  drunkenness  there  is  and  can  be  no  apology;  but 
the  condition  of  the  drunkard  is  often  pitiable  in  the  extreme. 
However  gradual,  or  respectable,  may  have  been  his  prog- 
ress in  the  descent  called  temperate  drinking,  the  appetite 
now  is  formed  w’ithin  him — the  drunkard’s  appetite. 
Wretched  man!  He  feels  what  not  faintly  resembles  the 
gnawing  of  “the  worm  that  never  dies.”  He  asks  for  help. 
There  are  times  when  he  would  give  worlds  to  be  reformed. 
Every  drunkard’s  life,  could  it  be  written,  would  tell  this  in 
letters  of  fire.  He  struggles  to  resist  the  temptation,  causes 
himself  to  be  shut  up  in  prison,  throws  himself  on  board  a 
temperance-sbip  for  a distant  vojrage,  seeks  new  alliances 
and  new  employments,  wrestles,  agon-izes,  but  all  in  vain. 
He  rises  to-daj'^  but  to  fall  to-morrow  ; and  amid  disappoint- 
ment and  reproach,  poverty  and  degradation,  he  says,  “ Let 
me  alone,  I cannot  live,”  and  plunges  headlong  to  destruc- 
tion. 

Who  will  come  to  his  rescue  ? Who  will  aid  in  the 
deliverance  of  thousands  of  thousands  from  this  debasinsf 
thraldom  of  sin  and  Satan  ? Our  aid  they  must  have. 

HheiY  number  demands  it.  Half  a million,  chiefly  adults, 
often  heads  of  families,  having  each  a wife  and  children, 
♦making  miserable  a million  and  a half  of  relatives  and 
friends.  They  pass,  too,  in  rapid  succession.  Ten  years  is 
the  measure  of  a generation,  and  if  nothing  is  done  to  save 
them,  in  the  next  forty  years  two  millions  may  be  swept 
into  eternity. 

Their  personal  degradation  and  suffering  require  it. 
What  would  we  not  do  to  pull  a neighbor  out  of  tbe  water, 
or  out  of  the  fire,  or  to  deliver  him  from  Algerine  captivity. 


2 


REFORMATION  OF  DRUNKARDS. 


or  wrest  him  from  the  hand  of  a pirate  or  midnight  assas- 
sin ? But  what  captivity,  what  pirate,  what  murderer  so 
cruel  as  Alcohol  ? 

Their plead  for  it.  The  innocent  and  the  help- 
less— the  lambs  in  the  paw  of  the  tiger,  and  that  tiger  a 
husband  and  father.  Amid  hungering  and  thirsting,  cold 
and  nakedness,  humiliation  and  shame,  sufferings  which  no 
pen  can  describe,  they  ask  for  aid. 

The  good  of  the  community  demands  it.  While  they 
live  as  they  do,  they  are  only  a moth  and  a curse.  The 
moment  they  are  reformed,  society  is  relieved  of  its  greatest 
burden.  The  poor-house  and  the  jail  become  almost 
tenantless. 

The  practica.hUity  of  a sudden  and  complete  reform  of 
every  drunkard  in  the  land  calls  for  it.  This  science  has 
denied.  Religion  has  only  said,  “ With  man  it  is  impossi- 
ble, but  not  with  God  ; for  with  God  all  things  are  possible.” 
But  science  yields  to  experiment,  and  religion  marches  on 
joyful  in  the  footsteps  of  Providence.  Thousands  amongst 
us  say,  “ How  it  has  been  done,  we  know  not.  One  thing 
we  know,  that  whereas  once  we  were  drunkards,  now  we 
are  sober  men.” 

But  above  all,  the  salvation  of  the  soul  makes  it  indis- 
pensable. Temperance  is  not  religion.  Outward  reforma- 
tion is  not  religion ; but  by  this  reform  a great  obstacle  is 
removed,  and  thousands  of  these  miserable  men  may  be 
broucrht  into  the  kingdom  of  God.  The  strong  chain  that' 
has  been  thrown  around  them  by  the  “ prince  of  the  power 
of  the  air,”  is  broken.  They  may  be  approached  as  they 
never  could  be  before.  Conviction  of  sin  is  fastened  upon 
their  conscience.  Gratitude  inspires  their  bosoms.  Good 
men  are,  of  choice,  their  companions.  The  dram-shop  is 
exchanged  for  the  house  of  God.  A Bible  is  purchased. 
Their  little  ones  they  bring  to  the  door  of  the  Sabbath- 
school.  They  flee  afeghted  from  the  pit;  and,  through 
grace,  manj"  lift  up  their  hands  imploringly  to  heaven,  as 
the  only  refuge  for  the  outcast,  the  home  for  the  weary. 
This  has  been  the  operation  of  the  reform  in  England.  Of 
thirty-five  thousand  reformed  drunkards  in  that  country, 
fifty-six  hundred  have  become  members  of  Christian 
churches,  having  hope  in  God  and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost. 
So  it  has  been  in  Scotland  ; many  there  now  sing  of  grace 


REFORMATION  OF  DRUNKARDS. 


3 


and  glory.  So  it  manifestly  is  in  America,  and  so  will  it 
be  more  and  more  around  the  world,  as  ministers  and 
Cliristians  meet  them  in  kindness  and  lead  them  to  the 
waters  of  salvation. 

But  what  .can  we  do  ? How  can  we  aid  the  poor  un- 
fortunate drunkard?  This  is  the  question. 

All  can  do  a little.  Some  can  do  much.  Every  man 
can  get  out  of  the  way  of  his  reform  ; cease  setting  him  an 
example  which  proves  his  ruin ; cease  selling  him  an  article 
which  is  death  to  the  soul ; discountenance  the  drinking- 
usages  of  society,  and  those  licensed  and  unlicensed  dram- 
shops which  darken  the  land.  Every  man  can  speak  an 
encouraging  word  to  the  wretched  inebriate ; tell  him  of 
what  is  doing  in  the  land,  allure  him  and  go  with  him  to  the 
temperance-meeting,  and  urge  him  to  sign  the  pledge;  and 
when  he  has  signed,  comfort  and  strengthen  him,  give  him 
employment,  give  him  clothing ; and  if  he  falls,  raise  him 
up,  and  if  he  falls  seven  times,  raise  him  up  and  forgive 
him. 

Try  it,  Christian  brother.  I know  your  heart  beats  in 
gratitude  to  God  for  what  he  has  done ; that  he  has  raised 
up  a new  instrumentality  for  rescuing  thousands  of  our  race 
from  the  lowest  degradation.  It  is  a token  of  good  for  our 
country  and  the  world.  Enter  into  this  field  of  labor. 
“You  know  the  grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ;  that 
though  he  was  rich,  yet  for  our  sakes  he  became  poor,  that 
we  through  his  poverty  might  become  rich.”  Go  imitate 
his  example  ; become  poor,  if  need  be,  to  save  the  lost. 
“ Go  out  into  the  highways  and  hedges,  and  compel  them 
to  come  in.” 

Try  it,  Christian  philanthropist.  “ It  is  good  neither  to 
eat  flesh,  nor  to  drink  -wine,  nor  any  thing,  whereby  thy 
brother  stumbleth,  or  is  offended,  or  made  weak.”  Sacri- 
fices make  the  world  happy,  and  God  glorious. 

Try  it,  Christian  female.  It  is  work  for  your  sex. 
Woman  is  the  greatest  sufferer  from  intemperance  : driven 
by  it  from  her  home  ; made  an  outcast  from  all  the  comforts 
of  domestic  love,  while  her  babes  cry  for  bread,  and  sbe 
has  no  relief.  Lost  men  will  listen  to  your  words  of  kind- 
ness, be  cheered  by  your  benefactions,  encouraged  by  your 
smiles. 

Try  it,  young  men.  Have  you  no  companions  early 


4 


REFORMATION  OF  DRUNKARDS. 


palsied,  withered,  and  scathed  by  alcoholic  fires,  treading 
now  on  the  verge  of  the  drunkard’s  grave  ? Go  after  them 
in  their  misery.  Go,  thanking  God  that  you  are  not  as 
they  are.  Go,  believing  that  you  may  save  them ; that 
they  will  receive  you  thankfully  ; that  they  must  have  your 
help,  or  be  lost.  Go,  and  be  strong  in  this  work.  The 
movements  of  Providence  call  you  to  effort  for  the  unfor- 
tunate and  wretched,  that  you  may  pull  them  out  of  the 
fire.  What  you  do  in  the  blessed  work,  do  quickl}’.  0,  if 
it  be  in  your  power  to  save  one  young  man,  do  it  quickly. 
Run  and  speak  to  that  young  man.  He  will  thank  you  for 
it.  His  father  will  thank  you.  His  mother  will  thank  you. 
His  sisters  will  thank  you.  His  immortal  soul,  rescued  and 
saved,  will  love  you  for  ever. 

TO  THE  POOR  UNFORTUNATE  DRUNKARD. 

My  Friend  and  Brother — You  are  poor  and  wretched. 
A horrid  appetite  hurries  you  on  in  the  road  to  ruin.  Abroad 
you  are  despised.  Home  is  a desolation.  A heart-broken 
wife  weeps  over  you,  yet  does  not  forsake  you.  She  hopes, 
she  waits  for  your  reform  and  for  better  days.  Conscience 
bids  you  stop.  But  appetite,  companions,  and  custom  say. 
One  glass  more.  That  is  a fatal  glass.  You  rise  but  to 
fall  again,  and  jmu  feel  that  you  can  never  reform.  But 
you  CAN  REFORM.  Thousands  and  thousands  around  you 
have  reformed,  and  would  not  for  worlds  go  back  to  drink- 
ing. They  are  happy  at  home ; respected  abroad ; well 
dressed ; well  employed ; have  no  thirst  for  the  dreadful 
cup.  They  feel  for  you.  They  say,  “ Come  thou  with  us, 
and  we  will  do  thee  good.”  Come  sign  the  pledge,  the 
pledge  of  total  abstinence.  In  this  is  your  only  hope.  This 
is  a certain  cure.  Touch  not,  taste  not,  handle  not  rum, 
brandy,  whiskey,  wine,  cider,  beer,  or  any  thing  that  into.v- 
icates,  and  you  will  be  a new  man,  a happy  man.  Begin 
now.  Try  it  now  in  the  strength  of  the  Lord.  From  this 
good  hour  resolve  that  none  of  these  accursed  drinks  shall 
ever  enter  your  lips.  The  struggle  may  be  severe,  but  it 
will  soon  be  over.  Say  then,  “ Come  life,  come  death,  by 
the  help  of  God  I will  be  free.” 


PUBLISHED  BY  THE  AMERICAN  TRACT  SOCIETY. 


TOM  STARBOARD 

AND 

JACK  HALYARD. 


A NAUTICAL  TEMPERANCE  DIALOSUE. 


Halloo,  shipmate ; what 
cheer  ? Mayhap,  however, 
you  don’t  choose  to  remem- 
ber an  old  crony. 

Tom.  Why,  Jack,  is  that 
you  ? Well,  I must  say,  that 
if  you  hadn’t  hailed  me  1 
should  have  sailed  by  without  knowng  you.  How  you’re 
altered  ! Who  w^ould  have  supposed  that  this  weather- 
beaten hulk  was  my  old  messmate  Jack  Halyard,  with 


2 TOM  STARBOARD  AND  JACK  HALYARD. 


many  a tough  gale  on  old  Ocean  ? and  then  you  used  to  be 
as  trim  in  your  rigging  as  the  Alert  herself ; hut  now  it’s  as 
lull  of  ends  as  the  old  Wilmington  brig  that  we  used  to  crack 
so  many  jokes  about  at  Barbadoes.  Give  me  another  grip, 
my  hearty,  and  tell  me  how  you  come  on. 

Jack.  Bad  enough,  Tom — ^bad  enough.  I’m  ver}'  glad, 
hoAvever,  to  overhaul  you  .again,  and  to  find  you  so  merr}-, 
and  looking  so  fat  and  hearty.  The  Avorld  must  have  gone 
Avell  Avith  you,  Tom. 

Tom.  You  may  AA’ell  say  that.  Jack,  and  no  mistake. 
The  world  has  gone  well  AAdth  me.  My  appetite  is  good, 
my  sleep  sound ; and  I ahvays  take  care  to  haA^e  a shot  hi 
the  locker,  and  let  alone  a snug  httle  sum  m the  seamen’s 
savings-bank,  that  I’a^o  stoAved  aAvay  for  squally  times,  or 
when  I get  old,  so  as  to  he  independent  of  hospitals  and  re- 
treats, and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  And  Avhat’s  more  to  the 
purpose.  Jack,  I try  to  have  a clean  conscience — ^the  most 
comfortable  of  all ; don’t  you  think  so  ? 

Jack.  Why  yes,  Tom,  I do  think  that  a clean  con- 
science must  be  a A^eiy  comfortable  thing  for  a man  to  haA'e. 
But  I can’t  hrag  much  of  mine  now-a-days  ; it  giA'es  me  a 
deal  of  trouble  sometimes. 

Tom.  Ah,  that’s  had,  Jack — yery  bad.  But  come,  let 
me  hear  sometlihig  about  you  since  Ave  parted,  some  four 
years  or  so  ago.  Where  liaA^e  you  la.st  been,  in  AA'hat  craft, 
etc.  ? GiA'e  me  a long  yarn  ; you  used  to  be  a famous  hand 
at  spinmng  long  yarns,  you  knoAV,  Jack.  Don’t  you  remem- 
ber hoAv  angry  old  copper-nosed  Grimes  used  to  get  Avhen 
the  larboard  AA'atch  turned  in,  and,  mstead  of  sleeping,  Ave 
made  you  go  ahead  AA’ith  the  story  you  Avere  on,  AA’liich  made 
him  AAish  us  all  at  DaAy’  Jones’  locker  Ha,  ha,  ha. 


TOM  STARBOARD  AND  JACK  HALYARD. 


3 


Jack.  0 yes,  Tom,  I remember  it  all  very  well ; but — 
Tom.  And  then,  don’t  you  recollect  how  Ave  used  to 
skylark  in  the  lee  scuppers  with  those  jolly  fellows,  Buntline 
and  Eeeftackle,  until  the  Luff  had  to  hail,  and  send  a Middy 
with  his  compliments,  to  the  gentlemen  of  the  larboard 
watch,  and  to  say,  that  if  quite  agreeable  to  them,  less  noise 
would  be  desirable?  I say.  Jack,  you  seem  to  have  forgot- 
ten all  these  fumiy  times  in  the  Alert.  Cheer  up,  man ; 
don’t  be  downhearted.  Give  me  your  flipper  again ; and 
if  you  are  really  in  trouble,  you  may  be  sure,  that  as  long 
as  your  old  messmate  Tom  Starboard  has  a shot  in  the 
locker,  or  a drop  of  blood  in  his  veins,  he’ll  stand  by  Jack 
Halyard — aye,  aye,  to  the  last. 

Jack.  Thank  you,  Tom — thank  you.  You  were  always 
an  honest  fellow,  and  meant  what  you  said  ; so  let  us  steer 
I'or  the  sign  of  “The  Jolly  Tar,”  round  the  corner,  and  over 
a bowl  of  hot  flip  Ave’ll  talk  over  old  times,  and — 

Tom.  Avast  there.  Jack — avast,  my  hearty.  None  oi 
your  hot  flip,  or  cold  flip,  or  any  other  kind  of  flip  for  me. 
“ The  burnt  child  dreads  the  fire,”  as  the  old  proverb  says  ; 
and  I am  the  child  that  was  once  pretty  well  scorched  : but 
now  I give  it  a wide  berth.  If  you  will  come  with  me  to 
my  quiet  boarding-house,  “ The  Sailor’s  Home,”  I will  be 
very  glad  to  crack  a joke  with  you ; but  you  won’t  catch 
me  in  any  such  place  as  “ The  Jolly  Tar,”  I can  tell  you. 
I mind  Avhat  the  old  Philadelphia  (Quaker  said  to  his  son, 
who,  as  he  was  once  coming  out  of  a house  of  ill-fame,  spied 
old  Broadbrim  heaving  in  sight,  and  immediately  wore  ship. 
The  old  chap,  however,  who  always  kept  his  weather-eye 
open,  had  had  a squint  of  young  graceless,  and  so  up  helm 
and  hard  after  he  cracked,  and  following  him  in,  hailed  him 
with,  “Ah,  Obadiah,  Obadiah,  thee  should  never  be  ashamed 


4 


TO.^l  STARBOARD  AND  JACK  HALYARD. 


of  coming  out — thee  should  always  he  ashamed  of  going 
in."'  No,  no,  Jack,  I side  with  friend  Broadbrim  ; I Avon’t 
enter  sucL  places. 

Jack.  Well,  I don’t  know,  Tom,  but  that  you  are  about 
half  right.  I think,  mj'self,  that  “The  Jolly  Tar”  is  not 
Avhat  it’s  cracked  up  to  be.  I am  sure  that  neither  the 
landlord  nor  the  landlady  look  half  as  kindly  on  me  as  they 
did  when  I first  came  in,  with  plent)'  of  money  in  my  pocket. 
Indeed,  they  have  been  pretty  rough  Avitliin  the  last  few 
days,  and  tell  me  that  1 must  ship,  as  they  want  my  ad- 
vanee  towards  the  score  run  up,  of  the  most  of  Avhich  I am 
sure  I know  nothing ; but  it’s  always  the  way. 

Tom.  Yes,  Jack,  it’s  alwa}'s  the  way  Avith  such  folks. 
The  poor  tar  is  welcomed  and  made  much  of  as  long  as  his 
pockets  are  well  lined ; but  let  them  begin  to  lighten,  and 
then  the  smiles  begin  to  slacken  of!’;  and  AA'hen  the  rhino  is 
all  gone,  poor  Jack,  avIio  Avas  held  up  as  such  a great  man, 
is  froAvned  upon,  and  at  last  kicked  out  of  doors  : or  if,  may- 
hap, they  have  let  him  run  up  a score,  he  is  hastily  shipped 
off,  perhaps  half  naked,  and  the  advance  is  grabbed  by  the 
hard-hearted  landlord,  Avho  made  poor  Jack  Avorse  than  a 
brute  Avith  his  maddening  poison.  Oh,  Jack,  hoAA'  my  heart 
has  bled  at  witnessing  the  cruel  impositions  practised  upon 
our  poor  brother  sailors  by  these  harpies.  But  come,  I Avaiit 
to  hear  all  about  my  old  messmate.  If  I am  not  greatly 
out  of  my  reckoning,  grog  is  at  the  bottom  of  all  your 
troubles,  and  long  faces,  and  sighs,  and  groans.  Cheer  up. 
Jack,  and  unbosom  yourself  to  your  old  friend  and  pitcher. 

J.ACK.  Well,  Tom,  as  I knoAV  you  to  be  a sincere  fel- 
loAv,  I Avill  unbosom  myself  You  AA'ere  neA^er  nearer  your 
right  latitude  than  Avhen  you  said  that  grog  was  at  the  bot- 
tom of  my  troubles.  Yes,  grog  has  pretty  nearly  used  up 


TOM  STARBOARD  AND  JACK  HALYARD.  5 

poor  Jack  Halyard.  A few  years  ago  I was  a light-hearted, 
happy  fellow,  and  only  drank  because  others  did — not  that  I 
liked  the  taste  particularly  in  those  days;  but  I did  it  for 
good-fellowship,  as  it  was  called ; and  moreover,  I did  not 
like  to  seem  odd ; and  when  I shipped  on  board  the  man-of- 
war,  where  it  was  served  out  to  us  twice  a day,  I soon  be- 
came fond  of  it.  And  you  know  we  both  used  to  long  for 
the  sun  to  get  above  the  fore-yard,  and  for  the  afternoon 
middle  wateh,  that  we  might  splice  the  main-brace.  Sure 
I am  that  it  was  there  I first  took  a likhig  to  the  stuff ; and 
0,  Tom,  don’t  you  think  the  government  will  have  much  to 
answer  for,  in  putting  temptation  in  the  way  of  us  poor  sail- 
ors ? Instead  of  being  our  protector,  it  is  our  seducer.  Our 
blood  will  stick  in  its  skirts. 

Tom.  Yes,  Jack,  I think  that  Uncle  Sam  has  a great 
deal  to  answer  for  on  that  tack ; and  I can  say,  too,  that 
the  love  of  rum  that  I acquired  in  the  government  service 
had  pretty  nearly  fixed  my  flint,  both  for  this  world  and  the 
next.  But  still,  Jaek,  it  wont  do  for  seamen  to  drinlc  grog 
because  the  government  supplies  it,  and  think  to  excuse 
themselves  by  blaming  it.  No,  no ; that  is  a poor  excuse. 
Men  who  brave  the  dangers  of  the  mighty  deep,  as  our  class 
do,  and  face  death  m every  form  with  unshrinking  courage, 
ought  to  be  able  to  resist  such  a temptation.  It  will  be  a 
poor  reason  to  hand  in  to  the  Almighty  when  the  angel 
summons  all  hands  before  his  dread  tribunal,  in  palliation 
of  our  drunkeimess  and  the  sins  committed  by  us  when  un- 
der the  influence  of  liquor,  that  the  government,  instead  of 
comforting  us,  and  fortifying  us  against  heat  and  cold,  etc., 
■with  coffee,  and  tea,  and  other  wholesome  small  stores,  poi- 
soned our  bodies  and  souls  with  vile  rum.  No,  indeed,  Jaek, 
that  Avill  avail  us  naught  in  that  awful  day ; and  it  will  be 

15 


Temp.  Vol. 


6 


TOM  STARBOARD  AND  JACK  HALYARD. 


poor  consolation  in  the  drunkard' & hell-,  to  blame  the  gov- 
ernment. But  go  on. 

Jack.  Well,  when  the  Alert’s  cruise  was  up,  and  we 
were  paid  off,  about  a dozen  of  us  went  to  lodge  with  old 
Peter  Hardheart,  at  the  sign  of  the  Foul  Anchor  ; and  as  we 
had  plenty  of  money,  we  thought  we  w'ould  have  a regular 
blow-out.  So  Peter  got  a fiddler  and  some  other  munen- 
tionable  requisites  for  a jig,  and  we  had  a set-to  in  firstrate 
style.  Why,  our  great  frohc  at  Santa  Martha,  when  Paddy 
Chips,  the  Irish  carpenter,  danced  away  his  watch,  and 
jacket,  and  tarpaulin,  and  nearly  all  his  toggerjq  you  know, 
and  next  morning  came  scudding  along  the  beach  towards 
the  Alert,  as  she  lay  moored  near  shore,  and  crept  on  board 
on  all-fours,  like  a half-droMmed  monkey,  along  the  best 
bower,  wouldn’t  have  made  a nose  to  it.  Well,  next 
morning  I had  a pretty  smart  touch  of  the  horrors,  and  felt 
rather  muddy  about  the  head ; but  old  Peter  soon  set  us 
agoing  again,  and  we  kept  it  up  for  three  days  and  three 
nights,  carriage-riding,  and  dancing,  and  drinkmg,  and  thea- 
tre-going, etc. ; and  we  thought  the  world  was  too  httle  for 
us  : when  all  at  once  old  Hardheart  took  a round  turn  on  us 
with,  “ I’ll  tell  you  whaf  it  is,  you  drunken  swabs.  I’ll  not 
have  such  goings-on  in  my  house — my  house  is  a decent 
house — you  must  all  ship ; yes,  ship’s  the  word.  I must 
have  the  advanee — ^you’re  more  than  a month’s  wages 
apiece  in  my  debt.”  Tom,  I was  sober  in  an  instant.  My 
conscience  smote  me.  In  three  days  I had  squandered  the 
wages  of  a three  years’  cruise,  and  had  not  a dollar  left  to 
take  to  my  poor  old  mother  in  the  countrj',  whom  I had 
intended  to  go  to  see  after  the  frohc  was  over,  and  give  all 
my  money  to.  0 Tom,  what  a poor,  pitiful,  sneaking 
wretch  I felt  that  I was.  The  two  letters  that  I had  re- 


TOM  STARBOARD  AND  JACK  HALYARD. 


7 


ceived  from  her  during  my  absence — so  kind,  so  affectionate, 
and  so  full  of  fervent  prayers  to  God  that  her  poor  hoy  might 
he  preserved  from  the  temptations  that  beset  the  sailor,  and 
he  brought  safely  hack  to  her  widowed  arms — rushed  to  my 
remembrance,  and  overwhelmed  me  with  grief ; and  I — 
I,  who  ought  to  have  denied  myself  even  innocent  gratifica- 
tion until  I had  ministered  to  her  wants,  had  forgotten  the 
best  of  mothers,  and  had  spent  all  of  my  hard  earnings  with 
the  vilest  of  the  vile. 

Tom.  Poor  Jack,  my  heart  bleeds  for  you;  but  cheer 
up,  and  go  on. 

Jack.  Well,  to  shorten  a long  story,  I was  the  next  day 
bundled,  when  about  three  sheets  in  the  wind,  on  hoard  a 
merchantman,  with  an  empty  chest,  although  it  was  win- 
ter, old  Hardheart  nabbing  the  whole  of  my  advance  ; and 
for  two  or  three  days,  Tom,  I suffered  awfully  from  the  hor- 
rors. I thought  I was  already  in  the  hell  to  which  the 
wicked  who  don’t  repent  must  go.  Awake,  asleep,  at  the 
helm,  on  the  yard,  in  the  storm,  in  the  calm,  everywhere  I 
was  haunted  with  the  remembrance  of  my  ingratitude  to 
my  poor  dear  mother — to  her  who  had  watched  over  me  in 
helpless  infancy  and  childhood ; who  had  prayed  over  and 
for  me  so  much  ; who  had  pinched  herself  to  give  me  a snug 
outfit  when  I first  went  to  sea  ; and  who  I knew  had  strained 
her  poor  old  eyes  in  watching  for  the  loved  form  of  her 
Jack — for  the  papers  must  have  apprised  her  of  the  arrival 
of  the  Alert  two  days  after  we  got  in.  But,  dear  old  wo- 
man, she  watched  in  vain ; Jack  had  forgotten  his  best 
friend  ; he  had  herded  with  beasts,  and  had  became  a beast 
himself.  0 Tom,  what  a miserable  wretch  I was.  I some- 
times tried  to  read  in  the  Bible  that  she  had  given  me,  but 
it  seemed  as  if  every  verse  was  a fiery  scorpion  stinging  me 


8 


TOM  STARBOARD  AND  JACK  HALYARD. 


for  my  crimes  and  ingratitude.  As  the  ship  in  "which  I was, 
sailed  under  the  temperance  clause,  I could  get  no  liquor 
on  board,  and  I determined  to  shun  the  accursed  thing  ever 
after  ; to  turn  over  a new  leaf  in  my  log-hook  of  life  ; to  save 
my  money ; and  to  become  a steady,  sober  lad,  so  that  I 
might  after  a while  be  made  a mate,  and  then  a master,  and 
have  a shot  in  the  locker  for  my  dear  old  mother.  These 
good  resolutions  lasted  as  long  as  I had  no  liquor ; but  you 
will  see  that  they  vanished  like  smoke  when  I came  ashore, 
on  the  return  of  the  vessel.  As  the  -wind  was  hght  in  the 
bay  in  coming  up,  we  were  boarded  by  several  boats  from 
sailor  boarding-houses,  and  among  the  rest  by  old  Hardlieart. 
When  I saw  him  I fairly  gritted  my  teeth  "ndth  rage,  for  I 
had  not  forgotten  how  he  treated  me  before ; but  he  came 
up  to  me  in  so  kind  a manner,  and  inquired  so  affectionately 
after  my  health,  and  seemed  to  feel  such  a real  interest  in 
me,  that  I swallowed  all  his  blarney  and  coaxing,  and  at 
last  agreed  to  stop  with  Irim  again  for  the  night  that  I would 
be  in  the  city,  intending,  the  moment  that  we  should  be 
paid  off  next  day,  to  steer  straight  for  my  old  mother,  if, 
mayhap,  my  cruelty  had  not  broken  her  heart ; and  more- 
over, determining  not  to  drink  a drop  of  liquor  in  his  house. 

Tom.  Dear  Jack,  I trust  that  you  Avere  able  to  keep 
that  resolution. 

Jack.  You  shall  hear,  Tom.  When  \A'e  got  to  old  Pe- 
ter’s, I found,  as  usual,  a good  many  people  in  the  house ; 
and  the  old  Avoman  and  the  girls  Avere  rejoiced  to  see  me 
again,  as  they  made  out.  The  old  Avoman  at  once  proposed 
that  Ave  should  celebrate  my  safe  return  in  the  big  punch- 
boAAd ; but  Peter  said,  “ No,  Jack  has  turned  cold-Avater 
man,  and  he  can’t  drink  ; but  aa'c’II  drink  for  Irim.”  I ob- 
served that  Peter  sneered  AA'hilst  he  said  this,  and  so  did  all 


TOM  STARBOARD  AND  JACK  HALYARD. 


9 


the  rest,  and  it  galled  me  a good  deal.  While  the  punch 
was  brewing,  some  of  the  men  whispered,  “ White-liver" — 
“poor  sneak" — “no  sailor ;"  and  after  the  punch  had  passed 
round  amongst  them  once  or  twice,  I thought  I would  just 
take  one  swig,  to  show  them  that  I was  not  the  poor  sneak 
they  took  me  for,  and  no  more.  But,  Tom,  that  one  swig 
sealed  my  doom  ; the  danger’s  always  in  the  first  glass. 
The  men  cheered,  and  said  they  knew  I was  a man,  and  a 
real  seaman,  by  the  cut  of  my  jib,  and  that  I was  too  good 
for  the  Temperance  Society  ; and  the  girls  cast  sheep’s-eyes 
at  me,  and  said  that  I was  just  the  chap  to  run  away  with 
a woman’s  heart,  and  that  my  eyes  were  not  made  for  the 
good  of  my  soul,  and  such-like  foolish  and  wicked  talk.  My 
weak  head  could  not  stand  the  punch,  nor  my  vain  heart 
the  flattery,  and  I was  soon  regularly  used.  up.  Instead  of 
having  a dollar  to  take  home  to  my  poor  old  mother,  I found 
myself,  in  a few  days,  the  second  time  penniless  ; was  forced 
to  ship  again  ; got  back ; the  same  scenes  were  acted  over ; 
and  here  I am,  the  miserable  wretch  that  you  see  me — light 
in  purse,  sick  in  body,  and  tormented  in  mind ; the  past  a 
curse,  the  future  despair. 

Tom.  Well,  Jack,  I must  say,  that  your,  case  is  hard 
enough.  But  don’t  despair,  my  boy.  Many  a poor  fellow 
who  has  hmig  to  a plank  in  mid-ocean  until  he  thought  it 
was  surely  all  over  with  him,  has  been  picked  up  and  saved. 
The  same  kind  Providence  who  has  watched  over  us,  and 
preserved  us  in  so  many  dangres,  will  not  desert  us.  What 
we  have  to  do  is,  to  turn  from  every  evil  way,  and  humbly 
trusting  in  the  merits  of  Christ  our  Saviour,  look  up  to  him 
for  mercy,  repent  of  all  sin,  and  resolve,  in  his  strength,  to 
fear  and  obey  him  in  future.  And  I trust.  Jack,  that  all 
will  yet  be  well  with  you  ; and  I rejoice  that  I have  where- 


10 


TOiM  STARBOARD  AND  JACK  HALYARD. 


withal  to  give  you  a lift  towards  fitting  you  out,  and  head- 
ing you.  off  towards  your  old  mother. 

Jack.  A thousand  thanks,  Tom — a thousand  thanks. 
“ A friend  in  need  is  a friend  indeed.”  You  have  fightened 
my  mind  of  a heavy  cargo  of  care  hy  your  kind  offer,  made 
with  the  frankness  of  a sailor,  and  which  I most  gratefully 
accept.  And  now  that  I have  finished  my  long  and  mourn- 
ful yam,  it  is  your  turn ; and  to  teU  the  truth,  Tom,  I am 
exceedingly  anxious  to  hear  all  about  you.  So  heave  ahead. 

Tom.  WeU,  Jack,  here  goes.  You  know  when  we  left 
the  Alert  we  had  plenty  of  rhino  in  our  pockets.  So  I in- 
tended to  steer  straight  for  my  native  ^ullage,  in  the  state 
of  Pennsylvania,  where  I had  left  my  old  father  and  a sweet, 
dear  little  sister,  thre*^  years  before,  to  cheer  their  hearts 
wdth  a sight  of  their  sailor-boy,  and  to  make  them  comfort- 
able with  the  cash.  Unfortunately,  as  I passed  through 
Philadelphia,  I w'ent  with  some  "wild  fellows  to  the  theatre — 
to  so  many  the  gatcAvay  to  hell — and  having  grog  enough 
aboard  to  make  me  pretty  crank  and  foolish,  I soon  found 
myself  in  the  third  tier  among  the  painted  fire-ships  ; and  as 
the  proverb  says,  “ When  the  wine  is  in,  the  wit  is  out,”  so 
I was  led  as  the  simple  one  of  Scripture,  “ like  an  ox  to  the 
slaughter.”  Truly,  Jack,  “her  house  is  the  way  to  hell, 
going  doMTi  to  the  chambers  of  death.”  The  consequences 
you  may  readily  imagine.  I was  made  to  drink  until  I was 
quite  insensible ; was  robbed  of  all  my  money,  and  then 
turned  out  of  doors  into  the  cold  street.  liiTien  I came  to 
myself  it  was  nearly  smu'ise,  and  I could  not  imagine  how  I 
had  got  there.  My  head  swam,  my  hones  ached,  and  1 felt 
as  if  it  was  “blue  Mondaj'”  Muth  me.  1 staggered  off,  not 
knowing  where  I was  or  whither  1 went,  for  half  an  hour 
or  more,  when  I sat  doM-n  on  a flight  of  steps,  and  fell 


TOM  STARBOARD  AND  JACK  HALYARD.  H 

asleep.  When  I awoke,  all  the  horrors  of  my  situation 
rushed  upon  my  mind ; and  0,  Jack,  I felt  the  raging  hell 
in  my  bosom  that  you  did  when  Hardheart  first  shipped  you 
off.  How  sunk  and  degraded  in  my  own  eyes.  I deter- 
mmed,  however,  upon  going  home,  as  the  distance  was 
short — only  fifteen  miles — and  a hitter  journey  it  was.  Jack. 
I thought  on  my  madness  and  folly,  and  wondered,  with  the 
poor  ignorant  Indian,  why  people  would  put  an  enemy  into 
their  mouths  to  steal  away  their  brains.  Instead  of  going 
to  meet  my  dear  father  and  sweet  little  sister  with  a joyous 
face  and  a pocket  full  of  money,  with  which  to  make  their 
hearts  sing  for  joy,  I was  returning,  like  the  prodigal  son, 
from  feeding  upon  husks  with  swine — poor,  and  with  a 
heavy  heart  and  a gnawing  conscience.  0 the  hell.  Jack, 
of  a had  conscience.  It  is  the  beginning  of  the  existence 
of  the  worm  that  never  dies,  and  of  the  fire  that  is  never 
quenched.  It  is  a foretaste  of  that  eternal  hell  prepared  for 
those  who  persist  in  violating  God’s  holy  laws.  Well,  I 
reached  home  at  last,  and  a sad  home  I found  it.  The  sand 
of  my  dear  father’s  glass  was  almost  run  out — the  poor  old 
man  was  about  slipping  his  cable.  But  0,  Jack,  how  hap- 
py he  looked ; and  so  calm  and  resigned  to  the  will  of  his 
heavenly  Father,  as  he  said — ready  to  set  sail  on  the  great 
voyage  of  eternity,  or  to  stay  and  weather  more  of  the  rough 
gales  of  adversity  in  this  life,  just  as  God  pleased.  He  held 
out  his  thin,  white  hand  to  me,  and  welcomed  his  hoy,  and 
thanked  the  Lord  that  he  had  given  him  a sight  of  me  be- 
fore his  eyes  were  sealed  in  death.  My  poor  sister  hung 
weeping  on  my  neck.  But,  Jack,  bad  as  I then  felt,  I felt 
a thousand  times  worse  when  my  dear  old  father  beckoned 
me  to  him,  and  laying  his  hand  on  my  head,  prayed  that 
God — his  God,  the  Friend  who  had  stood  by  him  in  every 


5 

12  TOM  STARBOARD  AND  JACK  HALYARD. 

gale  and  tempest  of  life,  and  proved  true  to  liim  tiU  the 
last — would  bless  his  dear  hoy  Thomas,  and  take  him  into 
his  especial  keeping,  and  lead  him  to  the  blessed  Jesus  ; and 
finally,  when  the  voyage  of  life  was  over,  that  we  all  three 
might  join  the  dear  mother  who  had  gone  before  us,  at  the 
right  hand  of  the  throne  of  Grod,  to  bless  and  praise  Iris  holy 
name  for  ever.  He  then  put  Susan’s  hand  into  mme,  and 
blessed  us  both  again,  and  said,  “ Thomas,  I leave  this  dear, 
precious  girl  with  you ; watch  over  her,  cherish  and  protect 
her,  and  he  to  her  both  father  and  brother.  May  the  great 
God  bless  you,  my  dear  children,  and  make  you  his.  I have 
but  httle  time  to  say  more,  for  the  icy  hand  of  death  is  on 
me ; my  Saviour  beckons,  and  I must  away.  Come,  Lord 
Jesus.”  With  these  words  the  glorified  spirit  of  my  beloved 
father  winged  its  flight  to  mansions  in  the  skies — ^to  that 
“rest  prepared  for  the  people  of  God;”  and  I was  left  Mutli 
my  weeping  sister,  almost  stupefied  wdth  grief.  Three  days 
after,  the  clods  of  the  valley  covered  the  mortal  remains  of 
my  honored  parent,  and  then  poor  Sue  and  I felt  that  we 
were  all  in  all  to  each  other.  I told  her  of  all  my  troubles, 
and  that  I had  robbed  her  by  my  vileness ; but  the  dear  girl 
kissed  me,  and  said,  “ Dear  brother,  do  not  mourn  on  my 
account ; I am  young  and  healthy,  and  can  easily  support 
myself  by  my  needle  ; but  mourn  on  your  own  account — 
mourn  over  your  sms,  and  your  ingratitude  to  the  great  Being 
who  has  upheld  you  and  preserved  you  m so  many  dangers, 
known  and  unknown,  on  the  mighty  deep.  And  promise  me, 
dear  brother,  that  j’ou  will  never  touch  another  drop  of  liquor 
again  ; it  will  be  the  first  step  towards  reformation.” 

Jack.  Poor  dear  girl.  Of  course,  Tom,  you  promised  ? 

Tom.  Aye,  aye.  Jack,  I did  promise  ; and  what’s  more, 
I kept  my  promise.  But  you  must  know  how  I Avas  able  to 


TOM  STARBOARD  AND  JACK  HALYARD. 


13 


do  it.  Before  I left  the  village  a great  Temperance-meeting 
was  held  there,  and  several  of  the  friends  of  the  cause  deliv- 
ered addresses,  in  which  they  showed  so  clearly  and  conclu- 
sively the  great  evils  resulting  from  the  use  of  spirituous 
liquors,  that  nearly  every  body  in  the  village  signed  the 
pledge  of  total  abstinence — at  least,  all  of  the  respectable 
part  of  the  community,  and  even  a good  many  sots  who  had 
been  given  up  as  incorrigible.  0 Jack,  if  you  had  heard 
the  awful  accounts  they  gave  of  broken-hearted  wives  and 
beggared  cliildren  ; of  the  widows  and  orphans  made  by 
rum  ; of  the  miseiy  and  degradation  attendant  upon  it ; of 
the  crimes  committed  imder  its  influence — robbery,  mmfler, 
suicide — leading  to  the  penitentiary,  the  gallows,  and  death, 
it  would  have  made  your  blood  freeze  in  your  veins.  And 
these  accounts  were  all  true.  Jack,  for  many  of  the  horrible 
scenes  had  taken  place  about  the  neighborhood. 

Jack.  I don’t  doubt  it  at  all,  Tom.  And  moreover,  I 
believe  that  not  one  half  of  the  misery  caused  by  rum — no, 
not  the  thousandth  part,  is  ever  known  by  the  public.  Many 
an  injured  wife  and  suflering  and  ruined  child  have  con- 
cealed the  history  of  their  woes  from  the  eye  and  ear  of  the 
world,  and  buried  their  sorrows  deep  in  their  own  bosoms. 

Tom.  True,  Jack,  or  breathed  them  only  to  their  God, 
M^hose  ear  is  always  open  to  the  cry  of  the  afflicted,  and 
whose  hand  is  always  ready  to  aid  them.  'Well,  I signed 
the  pledge,  wliich  I am  sure  has  a great  effect  in  restraining 
one  when  tempted  to  swerve  ; for  what  man  of  honorable 
feelings  would  wilfully  violate  his  word  and  promise  ? and 
a few  weeks  after,  having  fixed  my  sister  comfortably  with 
a pious  milliner,  I went  to  Philadelphia,  and  there  shipped 
with  a temperance  captain  for  a South  American  port.  0 
Jack,  what  a blessed  voyage  that  was  to  me.  On  the  first 

15* 


14 


TOM  STARBOARD  AND  JACK  HALYARD. 


day  out,  all  hands  were  called  aft  to  the  break  of  the  quar- 
ter-deck, Avhen  the  captain,  who  was  a pious  man,  told  us 
in  a few  words,  that  it  was  his  practice  to  have  “family 
worship”  every  morning  and  eveiung  in  the  cabin,  and  he 
hoped  that  all  his  men  would  cheerfully  unite  with  him. 
The  captain  was  so  kind  in  Iris  maimer,  and  appeared  to 
be  so  sincere,  and  as  he  seemed,  moreover,  to  regard  us  as 
human  beings  with  immortal  souls,  and  not  as  brute  beasts, 
out  of  whose  muscles  and  sinews  he  cared  only  to  get  plenty 
of  work,  we  all  wilhngly  consented.  So  at  simdown  all 
hands  were  mustered  in  the  cabin,  except  the  man  at  the 
helm,  as  the  weather  Avas  mild  and  the  ship  under  easy 
sail ; and  the  captain  prayed  fervently  that  God  AA'ould  give 
us  a safe  and  pleasant  passage,  and  bring  us  all  to  tliink 
of  our  souls.  He  then  read  a portion  of  Scripture,  wliich 
he  explained  to  us,  and  after  singing  a couple  of  h3’mns 
we  were  dismissed. 

Jack.  Ah,  Tom,  good  captains  make  good  crews,  aU  the 
world  over ; and  I’ll  warrant  there  Avas  neither  knocking 
doAvn  nor  mutiny  aboard  of  that  vessel. 

Tom.  No,  Jack ; there  Avas  nothing  but  peace,  and 
quietness,  and  good  order ; every  man  kncAv  his  place  and  did 
his  duty ; and  the  captain  was  like  a father  to  us.  He  had 
a spare  quadrant,  AA^hich  each  of  us  used  in  turn  in  taknig 
the  daily  observation,  under  his  oAvn  eye  ; and  he  taught  us 
how  to  work  our  reckoning;  so  that  in  the  course  of  the 
voyage  some  of  us  got  to  know  a good  deal  about  naviga- 
tion. And,  Jack,  I had  good  eAudence  of  the  A-alue  of  rehg- 
ion  also,  particularly  Avhen  we  encountered  the  equinoctial 
gale  in  the  southern  tropic,  and  Avere  near  going  doAAn. 
Then  it  was.  Jack,  when  Ave  had  lost  our  foretopmast,  and 
our  maintopsail  and  most  of  our  other  sails  had  been  bloAAn 


TOM  STARBOARD  AND  JACK  HALYARD.  15 

into  ribbons  ; when  the  sea  had  carried  away  nearly  all  our 
bulwarks,  and  swept  the  decks  clear  of  caboose,  longboat, 
etc. ; and  the  pumps  were  constantly  going — at  one  time  to 
the  tune  of  more  than  a thousand  strokes  an  hour — to  keep 
the  vessel  free ; and  the  axes  were  at  hand,  ready  to  cut 
away  the  masts  when  the  worst  should  come — that  our 
captain  was  calm  and  collected.  He  seemed  to  be  patient 
and  submissive  to  the  will  of  God,  as  if  he  had  been  bom  a 
Christian ; and  he  gave  many  a kind  word  of  encourage- 
ment to  his  men.  What  a dill’erence  there  must  have  been 
between  him  and  the  vulgar,  bullying  man  that  Sam  Bow- 
sprit once  sailed  with,  who  was  a wolf  when  there  was  no 
danger,  and  a sheep  when  there  was ; but  it  is  always  so 
with  your  bullies,  whether  in  the  cabin  or  the  forecastle. 
To  return  to  my  story  ; in  two  or  three  days  the  gale  spent 
its  fury,  and  we  reached  our  port  in  safety.  One  day  while 
in  port,  in  rummaging  my  chest,  I discovered  at  the  bottom 
a little  package  neatly  tied  up,  which,  upon  opening,  I found 
to  contain  two  small  books,  called,  “ James’  Anxious  Inquirer 
after  Salvation,”  and  “ Baxter’s  Call  to  the  Unconverted 
with  a few  touching  lines  from  my  dear  sister,  earnestly  be- 
seeching me  to  look  to  my  soul,  and  to  read  my  Bible  and 
these  little  books,  and  never  to  forget  my  God.  Jack,  this 
went  to  my  heart  like  an  arrow.  It  brought  fresh  to  my 
mind  the  death-bed  scene  of  my  dear  father,  and  I fell  upon 
my  knees,  and,  for  the  first  time,  really  prayed  to  God.  Yes, 
Jack,  I then  prayed  indeed.  I felt  my  ingratitude  to  God 
to  some  extent,  and  I began  to  see  what  a siimer  I had  been. 
I at  once  commenced  reading  my  Bible  and  the  little  books, 
that  I might  learn  more  of  my  lost  condition,  and  how  to 
flee  from  the  wrath  to  come.  In  the  course  of  a day  or  two 
the  captain  observed  that  I was  unea.sy  in  my  mind,  and 


16 


TOM  STARBOARD  AND  JACK  HALYARD. 


called  me  to  him  to  ask  if  he  could  do  any  thuig  to  aid  me. 
I frankly  told  him  aU  my  trouble,  and  he  at  once  pointed 
me  to  “ the  Lamb  of  God,  who  takes  away  the  sin  of  ^le 
world.”  He  then  gradually  and  clearly  unfolded  to  me  the 
great  gospel  plan  of  redemption  ; and  kneelmg  doMTi  togeth- 
er, he  prayed  most  fervently  for  me.  After  a few  days  of 
deep  solicitude  and  constant  prayer  to  Almighty  God,  he,  in 
his  infinite  mercy,  shed  light  upon  my  soul,  and  I felt  that 
Christ  had  died  for  me — even  me.  0 Jack,  then  it  was 
that  I first  tasted  true  joy — that  joy  w^hich  the  world  caimot 
give,  and  wliich  the  world  caimot  take  away ; that  peace  of 
mind  which  passeth  understanding.  And  with  God's  aid,  I 
have  ever  since  tried  to  walk  close  in  the  way  prescribed  by 
him  ; and  I trust  that  my  dear  father’s  dpng  prayer  will 
indeed  he  answered,  and  that  we  shall  all  meet  in  heaven. 

Jack.  'V\'’eU,  Tom,  I congratulate  you,  for  although  I 
make  no  pretensions  to  rehgion  myself,  I sincerely  respect  it 
in  others — that  is,  where  it  is  genuine,  as  I am  sure  it  is  hi 
your  case  ; hut  I can’t  stand  plajing  soldier  in  rehgion,  Tom, 
as  I have  seen  it  done  by  some  hj'pocrites. 

Tom.  So  much  the  worse  for  them.  Jack.  But,  my 
dear  fellow,  I advise  you,  as  a friend,  not  to  put  off  seeking 
religion  another  day.  This,  day  may  he  your  last.  Jack. 
Don’t  you  remember  the  storj"  of  the  rich  man  in  Scripture, 
who  said,  “ Soul,  thou  hast  much  goods  laid  up  for  many 
years ; take  thine  ease,  eat,  drink,  and  he  merty"  ?”  But 
God  said  unto  liim,  “ Thou  fool,  this  night  thy  soul  shall  he 
required  of  thee.”  O'  Jack,  don’t  put  off  this  most  impor- 
tant of  all  Avorks  to  a dying  bed,  for  you  may  not  har^e  one  ; 
you  may  he  called  into  eternity  at  a moment’s  Avaming. 
You  surely  haA^e  not  forgotten  the  aM-ful  death  of  sAvearing 
Joe  SAvifter,  Avho  Avas  shaken  off  the  yard  into  the  hohing 


TOW  STARBOARD  AND  JACK  HALYARD. 


17 


sea  in  that  terrible  night  off  the  Canaries,  when  we  were 
all  aloft  close  reefing  the  Alert’s  maintopsail  ? And,  Jack, 
can  you  ever  forget  his  cry  of  agony  as  we  shot  ahead  in  the 
gale,  forced  to  leave  him  to  perish  ? I am  sure  it  will  haunt 
me  to  my  dying  hour.  Poor  Joe,  thou  wert  called  with  all 
thy  sins  upon  thy  head  into  the  presence  of  an  offended  God. 

Jack.  Poor  Joe.  I remember  it  as  if  it  had  occurred 
but  yesterday,  Tom.  It  was  an  awful  warning  ; and  I 
don’t  think  there  were  three  oaths  sworn  on  board  the  Alert 
for  three  days  after.  To  tell  the  truth,  Tom,  I have  had 
some  queer  feelings  about  death  and  the  judgment,  lately ; 
and  although  I tried  hard  to  drown  them  in  grog,  they  would 
come  up  in  spite  of  me.  But  I’ll  tell  you  more  about  it 
when  we  reach  your  lodgings,  where  we  will  be  quiet  and 
uninterrupted.  You  got  safely  back,  I hope  ? 

Tom.  Yes,  Jack,  thanks  to  a kind  Providence.  I made 
two  more  voyages  with  the  same  captain ; and  I expect  to 
go  with  him-  next  trip  as  mate.  I have  been  able  to  send 
my  sister  a snug  little  sum  to  keep  her  comfortable  ; and  I 
have  something  handsome  in  the  seamen’s  savings  bank,  as 
I told  you  before  ; together  with  a clear  head  and  a happy 
heart ; trusting  in  my  God,  and  loving  all  who  bear  his  im- 
age. Now,  Jack,  what  do  you  think  of  temperance  ? 

Jack.  Think  of  it  ? Why,  Tom,  I always  thought  well 
of  it,  though  I can’t  say  that  I have  latterly  practised  it 
much  ; but  I like  it  now  better  than  ever.  I have  ruminated 
a good  deal  upon  its  evils,  both  at  sea  and  ashore.  Don’t  you 
think,  Tom,  that  rum  is  at  the  bottom  of  nine  out  of  ten  of 
the  floggings  that  take  place  in  the  navy  ? 

Tom.  Yes,  indeed.  Jack,  am  sure  of  it.  And  I think, 
moreover,  that  if  it  were  discarded  entirely  from  the  govern- 
ment and  merchant  service,  insubordination  and  floggings 


18 


TOM  STARBOARD  AND  JACK  HALYARD. 


would  be  of  rare  occurrence  in  the  one,  and  trouble  and  mu- 
tiny in  the  other.  And  there  would  be  fewer  vessels  and 
lives  lost  in  the  merchant-service,  in  the  bargain. 

Jack.  I have  often  thought,  Tom,  what  a degrading 
thing  that  flogging  is.  It  sinks  a man  below  the  level  of  a 
brute,  both  in  his  own  and  the  eyes  of  others.  It  seems  to 
me  that  if  I had  ever  been  triced  up  at  the  gratings,  and 
had  a stroke  of  the  cat,  it  would  have  completely  crushed 
my  spirit,  if  it  had  not  broken  my  heart  outright. 

Tom.  I think  it  would  have  had  the  same  effect  on  me 
too.  Jack.  I am  sure  I could  not  have  stood  it. 

Jack.  And,  Tom,  to  show  more  of  the  bad  efiects  of 
liquor,  I remember  that  I was  once  in  Port-au-Prince,  in  the 
island  of  St.  Domingo,  during  the  sickly  season,  when  a fear- 
ful mortality  raged  among  the  shipping,  so  that  every  vessel 
lost  some  of  her  men  ; most  of  them  bringing  on  the  yellow- 
fever  by  their  intemperance.  There  were  tliree  ships  that 
were  left  without  a man ; all  were  swept  off  from  the  cap- 
tain to  the  eook. 

Tom.  Awful,  Jack,  awful.  I have  also  seen  many  a 
stout  and  noble-hearted  tar,  in  those  yellow-fever  countries, 
stowed  away  under  a foot  of  earth  for  the  landcrabs  to  feed 
upon,  just  from  drinking  rum,  or  the  strong  brandy  of  the 
country.  I’ll  teU  you  what  it  is.  Jack,  when  the  coppers 
are  scalded  by  rum,  physic  can’t  get  a hold — it  is  just  hke 
casting  anchor  on  a rocky  bottom — and  so  the  grip  of  the 
grim  monster  Death  is  sure.  The  only  safe  man  there,  as 
well  as  everywhere  else,  mdeed,  is  the  teetotaler. 

Jack.  "ViTiat  is  a teetotaler,  Tom  ? I have  often  heard 
the  term,  without  fully  knowing  what  it  meant. 

Tom.  a teetotaler.  Jack,  is  one  who  conscientiously 
abstams  from  every  description  of  intoxicating  drink  ; rum, 


TOM  STARBOARD  AND  JACK  HALYARD.  19 

whiskey,  brandy,  gin,  cordials,  wine,  cider,  ale,  and  even 
beer. 

Jack.  What,  Tom,  you  don’t  mean  to  say  that  you  give 
such  a wide  berth  to  heer  ? Tell  that  to  the  marines,  for 
old  sailors  won’t  believe  it. 

Tom.  I do  say  it,  Jaek.  I give  even  beer  a wide  berth. 
Don’t  you  know  that  it  contains  alcohol  ? And  what  is  per- 
haps worse,  there  is  but  little  beer  and  ale  made  for  sale  that 
does  not  contain  many  hurtful  ingredients — ^poisonous  drugs. 
No,  no ; nothing  for  me  that  can  in  the  slightest  degree 
affect  ray  noble  reason,  that  great  gift  of  Almighty  God. 
Pure  cold  water — Adam’s  sparkling,  life-invigorating  ale — 
and  coffee  and  tea,  are  my  beverages.  Try  them  once.  Jack, 
and  the  word  of  an  honest  sailor  for  it,  you  will  never  go 
back  to  alcohol,  or  any  of  its  accursed  family. 

Jack.  Well,  Tom,  I think  I will.  The  fact  is,  you 
seem  to  be  so  well  in  body  and  happy  in  mind,  so  comfort- 
able and  respectable  m worldly  matters,  and  speak  so  cheer- 
ingly  of  another  world — to  which  I know  that  the  rapid 
current  of  time  is  hurrying  us  both — that  I’ll  follow  in  your 
wake,  and  try  to  make  a little  headway  in  these  things  my- 
self 

Tom.  Well  said,  my  hearty.  Give  me  another  shake 
of  your  honest  fist.  Now  I begin  to  recognize  my  old  true- 
heailed  friend  and  messmate  Jack  Halyard  in  his  early 
days,  when  we  swore  friendship  to  each  other  across  the  sea- 
chest,  on  hoard  the  Alert.  You  are  the  man  for  me.  Jack  ; 
so  come  up  with  me  at  once  to  the  Sailor’s  Home,  and  I’ll 
rig  you  out  a little  more  decently — make  you  look  a little 
more  shipshape — and  to-night  we  will  go  to  the  great  tem- 
perance-meeting at  the  seamen’s  bethel  chapel,  and  you  shall 
sign  the  pledge,  which  will  be  the  wisest  act  of  your  life, 


20 


TOM  STARBOARD  AND  JACK  HALYARD. 


Jack,  as  I’ll  wager  a barrel  of  pork  against  a mouldy  bis- 
cuit : aye,  I’ll  warrant  me  you  will  say  so  at  some  future  day. 
There  will  be  plenty  of  blue-jackets  there  that  will  lend  a 
hand  in  so  good  a cause. 

Jack.  Well,  heave  ahead,  old  messmate.  I did  think 
of  tapering  off — quitting  by  degrees — but  perhaps  the  safest 
and  easiest  plan  will  be,  to  break  off  at  once. 

Tom.  That  is  the  way,  Jack,  the  only  true  way.  Ta- 
permg  off  is  not  what  it  is  cracked  up  to  be.  It  is  very 
hazardous ; for  it  keeps  up  excitement,  and  the  taste  of  the 
liquor  hangs  about  the  palate.  Don’t  you  remember  Ben 
Hawser,  one  of  the  best  maintopmen  of  the  Alert — he  A\'ho 
saved  the  first  Lull’ from  drowning  at  Port  Mahon,  when  he 
fell  overboard  from  the  cutter  ? 

Jack.  Surely  I do,  Tom.  Do  you  suppose  I could  for- 
get such  a noble-hearted  fellow  as  Ben  Hawser — as  fine  a 
fellow  as  ever  laid  out  upon  a yard,  or  stood  at  the  wheel ; 
and  such  a firstrate  marlinespike  seaman  in  the  bargain  ? 
No,  indeed. 

Tom.  You  are  right,  Jack.  He  was  a noble  fellow, 
and  a thorough  seaman.  There  was  nothmg  of  the  lubber 
about  poor  Ben  ; always  the  first  man  at  his  duty,  and  ready 
to  share  his  last  copper  vidth  a fellow-mortal  in  distress, 
whether  seaman  or  landsman.  Well,  Ben  once  got  mto  a 
great  frolic  ashore,  and  kicked  up  such  a bobberj'  that  the 
watchman  clapped  him  in  limbo  for  the  night ; and  the  jus- 
tice next  morning  gave  him  such  a clapper-clawing  with  his 
tongue,  and  bore  down  upon  him  so  hard  with  his  repri- 
mands, as  I think  the  lawyers  call  it,  and  raked  liim  so 
severely  "fore  and  aft  with  his  good  advice,  to  wind  up 
wdth,  that  Ben  felt  pretty  sheepish ; and,  as  he  told  us 
afterwards,  didn’t  know'  w'hether  he  was  on  his  head  or  his 


TOM  STARBOARD  AND  JACK  HALYARD. 


21 


heels — on  the  truck,  or  on  the  keelson.  He  felt  so  sore  about 
it,  and  so  much  ashamed  of  himself,  that  he  did  not  touch 
a drop  for  six  weeks.  He  then  thought  he  would  take  it 
moderately — -just  enough  to  keep  the  steam  up — or,  as  some 
folks  say,  he  thought  he  would  be  a temperate  drinker.  0, 
Jack,  that  temperate  drinking  is  a famous  net  of  old  Satan’s 
to  catch  fools  in.  Your  temperate  drinker  treads  on  slippery 
ground ; for  as  I verily  believe  that  alcohol  is  one  of  the  most 
active  imps  for  the  destruction  of  both  body  and  soul,  the 
temperate  drinker  is  too  often  gradually  led  on  by  the  fiend, 
until  the  habit  becomes  fixed  and  inveterate ; and  he  drags  a 
galling  chain,  each  day  riveted  more  strongly,  and  the  poor 
wretch  hourly  becomes  more  callous  to  shame,  until  he  sinks 
into  the  grave — the  drunkard' s,  grave. 

Jack.  But,  Tom,  you  don’t  mean  to  say  that  poor  Ben’s 
reel  has  been  run  off  in  that  style,  do  you  ? 

Tom.  Indeed,  Jack,  it  is  true,  and  sorry  am  I that  it  is 
so.  Yes,  I followed  the  worn-out  hulk  of  Ben  Hawser  to 
the  dark  and  silent  grave  a fortnight  ago.  He  slipped  his 
cable  in  the  prime  of  life  ; and  all  along  of  temperate  dritik- 
ing  at  first.  Ben,  like  many  other  men,  thought  he  was 
strong-minded,  and  could  stop  at  a certain  point ; but  he 
found,  to  his  cost,  that  king  Alcohol  was  stronger,  and  that 
when  once  he  had  forged  his  chains  around  his  victim,  he 
was  sure  of  him,  unless  the  grace  of  a merciful  God  inter- 
vened, and  plucked  him  as  a brand  from  the  burning.  So  I 
advise  every  one  to  beware  of  temperate  drinking.  Give  it 
a wide  berth,  or  it  may  wreck  you  for  time  and  for  eternity. 

One  thing  more.  Jack.  I would  like  your  temperate 
drinker  to  pause,  and  reflect  upon  the  fact,  that  the  quantity 
of  brandy  or  rum  that  he  took  at  a drink,  when  he  com- 
menced this  downhill  course,  has  been  gradually  increased ; 


22 


TOM  STARBOARD  AND  JACK  HALYARD. 


SO  that  in  the  second  year,  what  had  been  quite  sufficient  to 
please  his  palate  and  produce  all  the  desired  effects  in  the 
first,  was  then  insipidly  small ; and  more  so  in  the  third 
year,  if,  mayhap,  he  could  with  any  decency  lay  claim  to 
the  title  of  temperate  drinker  so  long.  Jack,  this  is  a fear- 
ful reflection  for  one  of  this  class  of  the  slayes  of  alcohol ; 
but  let  him  think  upon  it  when  quite  free  from  excitement, 
say  after  two  or  three  days’  abstinence— if  he  can  abstain 
that  long  just  to  cool  off  for  reflection — and  I’ll  warrant  he 
will  tremble  at  the  prospect. 

Besides,  Jack,  the  influence  of  your  temperate  drinker  is 
ten  times  worse  than  that  of  the  confirmed  and  notorious 
drunkard ; for  it  is  not  likely  that  any  one  in  his  senses 
would  desire  to  copy  the  confirmed  sot  in  his  beastliness. 
No,  mdeed ; he  would  shrink  mth  horror  from  the  intoxi- 
cating bowl,  if  he  felt  sure  that  such  would  he  the  result  to 
him,  if  he  indulged.  But  he  should  remember,  that  no  one 
ever  became  a sot  at  once;  the  degradation  was  by  degrees. 
And  it  may  he  that  your  temperate  drinker  is  a respectable 
and  thriving  man  hr  the  eyes  of  the  Avorld — say  a great 
merchant,  or  lawyer,  or  master  of  a ship — and  small  folks  do 
not  imagine  they  are  in  any  danger  when  they  see  such  men 
stand  fast,  as  they  think  : but  they  had  all  better  remember 
the  advice  in  Scripture,  “Let  liim  that  thinketh  he  standeth, 
take  heed  lest  he  fall and  so  they  follow  in  the  w'ake,  and 
perhaps  nine  out  of  ten  go  down  to  the  grave  drunkards  ; 
often,  I am  sure,  in  company  wdth  the  very  men  w'hose  ex- 
ample they  thought  so  safe,  but  w'hich  led  them  to  certain 
ruin.  It  is  an  awful  thought.  Jack,  that  w'e  have  been  the 
means  of  misleading  others,  either  by  example  or  precept ; 
and  one  that  will  weigh  like  lead  upon  the  conscience  of 
many  a man  on  his  death-bed.  No,  no ; my  motto  is. 


TOM  STARBOARD  AND  JACK  HALYARD, 


23 


“ TOUCH  NOT,  TASTE  NOT,  HANDLE  NOT.”  The  wise  mail 
of  Scripture  knew  what  he  was  about  when  he  said, 
“ Look  not  upon  the  wine  when  it  is  red,  when  it  giveth 
his  color  in  the  cup  ; at  the  last  it  hiteth  lilte  a serpent,  and 
stingeth  like  an  adder.”  The  same  wise  man  said  also, 
that  “the  drunkard  and  the  glutton  shall  come  to  poverty.” 
But,  Jack,  what  are  poverty  and  shame,  bad  as  they  are,  in 
comparison  with  the  loss  of  the  soul  ? Thinlr  of  that — the 
loss  of  the  immortal  soul — for  God  says,  that  neither  thieves, 
nor  drunkards,  nor  any  thing  that  defileth,  shall  enter  heav- 
en. And  0,  Jack,  to  think  of  being  cast  into  hell  for  ever, 
with  the  devil  and  his  angels ; how  awful ! hut  such  must  he 
the  fate  of  the  tmrepentant  drunkard. 

Jack.  Awful,  indeed,  Tom.  I am  now  fully  persuaded 
that  you  are  right ; and  so  I’ll  follow  your  good  example, 
and  sign  the  teetotal  pledge.  And  what  is  more.  I’ll  trjr  to 
be  a Christian  too;  for  I believe  that  religion  is  the  best 
security  against  every  kind  of  temptation. 

Tom.  I like  that,  Jack ; it  is  truth  itself.  So  we  will 
shape  our  course  for  the  Sailor’s  Home,  under  the  direction 
of  that  noble  institution,  “ The  American  Seamen’s  Friend 
Society there  you  will  be  out  of  the  way  of  temptation, 
and  there  is  a good  deal  in  that — and  to-night  we  will  go 
to  the  Bethel.  By  the  way.  Jack,  you  can’t  thmk  what  ex- 
cellent places  these  Homes  are  for  the  poor  tempest-tossed 
mariner ; and  how  snug  and  comfortable  we  all  are  there. 
The  rules  of  the  houses  are  excellent ; neither  swearing  nor 
drinking  is  allowed ; and  every  night  and  morning  we  unite 
with  the  families  in  worship  ; and  on  the  Sabbath,  and  some 
of  the  evenings  of  the  w'eek,  we  are  kindly  invited  to  the 
Bethel  chapel,  where  we  have  excellent  preaching,  on  the 
Avord  of  God  ; and  in  the  family  prayers,  the  good  of  us  poor 


24 


TOM  STARBOARD  AND  JACK  HALYARD. 


sailors,  for  time  and  eternity,  is  not  forgotten,  I can  tell  you. 
It  reminds  me  of  the  days  of  my  boyhood,  when  my  dear 
father  called  us  together,  morning  and  evening,  to  praise 
God ; and  also  of  the  happy  time  I have  spent  with  my 
present  good  captain. 

And  then,  Jack,  when  any  of  us  are  sick  they  are  so 
kind  and  attentive — -just  like  our  o-wn  dear  mothers  and 
sisters.  I saw  how  kindly  poor  Martin  Gray  was  treated 
during  his  long  illness,  by  the  manager — a worthy  old  salt — 
and  his  excellent  family ; and  how  they  smoothed  his  dymg 
pillow,  and  did  all  they  could  to  make  his  way  easy  towards 
the  dark  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death.  Oh,  Jack,  it  is  a 
great  thing  to  fall  in  with  real  Christians  at  such  a time. 
It  makes  one  think  of  the  poor  man  in  Scripture  w’ho  fell 
among  thieves,  and  had  his  w'ounds  dressed  and  care  taken 
of  him  by  the  good  Samaritan.  Aye,  aye.  Jack ; and  I know, 
moreover,  that  the  good  example  and  excellent  ad^ice  in 
these  houses  have  been  the  means,  in  the  Lord’s  hands,  of 
saving  both  the  body  and  soul  of  many  a poor  neglected, 
weather-beaten  tar,  who  would  otherwise  have  fallen  into 
the  jaws  of  the  devouring  sharks  who  are  always  on  the 
watch,  with  open  mouths,  to  prey  upon  the  poor  son  of 
ocean,  and  to  swallow  him  up  without  pity  or  remorse. 

Jack.  Well,  heave  ahead,  my  hearty ; I’m  the  lad  that 
won’t  flinch.  So,  tliree  cheers  for  the  glorious  Temperance 
cause,  for  Sailor’s  Homes  and  Bethels,  and  for  the  mothers, 
wives,  sisters,  and  sweethearts  of  aU  true-hearted  seamen. 
And  let  everj-  jolly  tar  who  loves  liis  family  and  domestic 
peace,  and  w^aiits  to  do  his  duty  and  be  respected  in  this 
world,  and  lay  an  anchor  to  windward  of  another  and  better 
w'oiid,  toe  the  plank,  and  sign  the  pledge  right  off  the  reel. 
Huzza,  huzza,  huzza  ! 


THE  OX  SERMON. 


Among  the  laws  given  by  the  divine  Lawgiver  through 
Moses  to  the  Jews,  was  the  following  : “ If  an  ox  gore  a man 
or  a woman  that  they  die,  then  the  ox  shall  be  surely  stoned  ; 
but  the  owner  of  the  ox  shall  be  quit.  But  if  the  ox  xoere 
ivont  to  push  with  Iris  horn  in  time  past,  and  it  hath  been 
testified  to  his  owner,  and  he  hath  not  kept  him  in,  but  he 
hath  killed  a man  or  a woman,  the  ox  shall  be  stoned,  and 
his  owner  also  shall  be  put  to  death.”  Exod.  21  : 28,  29. 

The  principle  of  this  law  is  a very  plain  one,  and  a very 
broad  one — here  applied  in  a specific  case,  but  extending  to 
ten  thousand  others.  It  is  this.  Every  man  is  responsible 
to  God  for  the  evils  which  result  from  his  selfishness,  or  his 
indifference  to  the  welfare  of  others. 

Ages  before  this  law  was  given,  God  says  to  Noah, 

“ Your  blood  of  your  lives  will  I require  : at  the  hand  of 
every  beast  will  I require  it,  and  at  the  hand  of  man.”  A 
stigma  shall  be  fixed  upon  man  or  beast  that  shall  destroy 
him  who  is  made  after  the  similitude  of  God.  But  why,  in 
the  case  first  supposed,  is  the  owner  quit,  or  guiltless  ? Sim- 
ply because  the  death  is  not  in  any  way  the  result  of  his 
carelessness  or  of  his  selfishness.  From  any  thing  within 
his  knowledge,  he  had  no  reason  to  expect  such  a result. 
But  if  the  ox  hath  been  ivont  to  push  with  his  horns,  and  he 
knew  it,  he  shall  be  responsible  for  the  consequences,  what- 
ever they  may  be ; for  he  had  everj'’  reason  to  expect  that 
mischief  would  be  done,  and  took  no  measures  to  prevent  it. 
And  if  the  ox  kill  a man  or  woman,  the  owner  hath  done  ^ 
the  murder,  and  he  shall  be  put  to  death.  Why  ? The 
death  was  the  result  of  his  selfishness,  or  his  indifference, to 
the  lives  of  others.  And  according  to  the  law  of  Go^nis 
life  shall  go  for  it.  The  principle  of  this  law  is  a principle 
of  common-sense.  / 

You  see  a fellow-creature  struggling  in  the  w^i’-  You 
know  that  he  can  never  deliver  himself.  Anc^ou  know 


/ 

/ 


2 


THE  OX  SERMOX. 


that  a very  little  assistance,  such  as  you  can  render,  vrill 
rescue  him  from  a watery  grave.  You  look  on  and  pass  by. 
True,  you  did  not  thrust  him  in.  But  he  dies  by  your  neg- 
lect. His  blood  vail  he  upon  your  head.  At  the  bar  of  God, 
and  at  the  bar  of  conscience,  you  are  his  murderer.  Why  ? 
You  did  not  kill  him.  Neither  did  the  o-wner  of  the  ox  lift 
a hand.  But  he  shall  surely  he  put  to  death.  You  had  no 
malice,  neither  had  he.  You  did  not  intend  his  death — at 
the  very  worst,  you  did  not  care.  This  is  just  his  crime. 
He  did  not  care.  He  turned  loose  a wild,  fierj’,  ungoverna 
ble  animal,  knowing  him  to  be  such ; and  what  mischief 
that  animal  might  do,  or  what  suffering  he  might  cause,  he 
did  not  care.  But  God  held  him  responsible. 

Every  man  is  responsible  for  evils  which  result  from  his 
own  selfishness  or  indifference  to  the  lives  of  men.  In  other 
words,  to  make  a man  responsible  for  results,  it  is  not  neces 
sary  to  prove  that  he  has  malice,  or  that  he  intended  the 
results.  The  highwayman  has  no  malice  against  him  he 
robs  and  murders,  nor  does  he  desire  his  death,  but  his 
money  ; and  if  he  can  get  the  money,  he  does  not  care.  And 
he  robs  and  murders  because  he  loves  himself  and  does  not 
care  for  others  ; acting  in  a different  way,  but  on  the  same 
selfish  principle  ■\\’ith  the  oMurer  of  the  ox ; and  on  the  very 
same  principle  is  he  held  responsible. 

In  the  trial  of  the  owner  of  the  ox,  the  only  questions  to 
be  asked  were  these  two  : Was  the  ox  wont  to  push  with  his 
horn  in  time  past  ? Did  the  owner  know  it  when  he  let 
him  loose  ? If  both  these  questions  were  answered  in  the 
affirmative,  the  owier  Avas  responsible  for  all  the  conse- 
quences. This  is  a rule  AA'hich  God  himself  has  established. 

Is  INTOXICATING  LIQUOR  wont  to  produce  miser}',  and 
Atretchedness,  and  death  Has  this  been  testified  to  those 
wlo  make  and  deal  in  it  as  a beA’^erage  ? If  these  tAS'o  things 
can  >)e  estabhshed,  the  inference  is  ineA-itable — they  are 
responibie  on  a principle  perfectly  intelligible,  a principle 
recognL:.(t  and  proclaimed,  and  acted  upon  by  God  himself 
Turn+hen  your  attention  to  these  tAA'o  facts.  1.  Intoxi- 


THE  OX  SERMON. 


3 


eating  liquor  is  ivont  to  po'oduce  misery.  2.  Those  who 
make  or  traffic  in  it,  know  this. 

1.  Upon  the  first  point  it  will  he  sufficient  to  remind 
you  of  the  hopes  which  intoxicating  liquor  has  blasted,  and 
the  tears  it  has  caused  to  flow.  Let  any  one  of  us  count  up 
the  number  of  its  victims  which  we  have  known — consider 
their  character  and  standing  in  society — their  once  happy 
families  and  prospects,  and  what  a fearful  change  has  a few 
years’  use  of  strong  drink  produced.  Very  few  hut  remem- 
ber twenty,  thirty,  fifty,  or  one  hundred  families  ruined  in 
this  way.  Some  of  them  were  once  our  intimate  friends — 
and  their  story  is  soon  told. 

They  drank  occasionally,  for  the  sake  of  company,  or 
merely  for  exhilaration.  The  relish  for  stimulants  was  thus 
acquired,  and  habits  of  dissipation  formed.  They  became 
idle,  and  of  course  uneasy.  And  they  continued  to  drink, 
partly  to  gratify  ta.ste  and  partly  to  quiet  conscience.  They 
saw  the  ruin  that  was  coming  upon  them,  and  they  made 
some  earnest  but  ineffectual  struggles  against  it.  But  the 
resistance  became  weaker  and  weaker — by  and  by  the  strug- 
gle is  ended — they  float  with  the  current,  and  where  are 
they  ? One  has  been  found  by  the  temperance  reformation, 
a mere  wreck  in  property,  character,  body,  and  mind,  and 
reclaimed.  Another  is  dead  : his  constitution  could  not  bear 
his  continued  dissipation.  Another  died  in  a fit ; another 
was  found  by  the  road-side  one  cold  morning,  a stiffened 
corpse.  Another  was  throAvn  from  liis  horse,  and  is  a crip- 
ple for  life,  but  still  can  contrive  means  to  pay  a daily  visit 
to  the  dram-shop.  Another  is  a mere  vagabond,  unprinci- 
pled and  shameless — wandering  from  shop  to  shop,  a fit  com- 
panion for  the  lowest  company,  a nuisance  to  society  and  a 
curse  to  his  kindred.  Another  is  in  the  penitentiary  for  a 
crime  which  he  committed  in  a drunken  frolic. 

Go  into  the  crowded  court-house  and  you  may  see  an- 
other ; his  countenance  haggard  and  ghastly,  and  his  eye 
wildly  rolling  in  despair.  What  has  he  done  ? One  night, 
after  spending  all  his  money  for  drink,  and  loitering  about 
till  all  the  shops  were  closed,  he  returned  to  his  miserable 


4 


THE  OX  SERMON. 


habitation.  He  found  a few  coals  on  the  hearth,  and  his 
wife  and  children  sitting  by  thena.  He  threw  one  child  this 
way  and  another  that,  for  he  was  cold.  His  wife  remon- 
strated, and  withal  told  him  that  what  little  fire  there  was 
was  none  of  his  providing.  "With  many  a horrid  oath  he 
declared  he  would  not  be  scolded  after  that  sort.  He  would 
let  her  know  who  should  govern,  and  by  way  of  supporting 
his  authority,  beat  her  brains  out  with  the  last  remaining 
stick  of  wood.  He  did  not  mean  to  kill  her.  Her  djing 
struggles  brought  him  to  his  senses,  and  he  stood  horror- 
struck.  He  would  give  almost  any  thing  that  the  deed  were 
not  done.  If  that  could  restore  her  to  fife,  he  would  be  almost 
ready  to  give  a pledge  never  to  taste  intoxicating  liquor  again. 
Now  look  at  the  wretchedness  of  his  family.  For  years  he 
has  made  very  little  provision  for  them  ; they  have  hved  as 
they  could,  half  naked  and  half  starved,  and  not  educated  at 
all — with  a most  wretched  example  before  their  eyes.  "VMiat 
encouragement  had  the  wife  or  the  children  to  attempt  any 
thing — to  make  any  exertion  ? The  cluldren  are  abused  and 
trampled  on  at  home,  and  the)^  grow  up  Avithout  self-respect, 
without  shame,  and  AAuthout  principle.  Can  any  thing  good 
be  expected  of  them  ? And  if  they  do  rise,  it  must  be  through 
a world  of  difficulty. 

How  many  thousand  famihes  have  been  ruined  in  some 
such  way  as  this.  The  father  Avas  a drunkard,  and  the 
mother — what  could  she  do  ? She  endured,  hoping  against 
hope — and  for  the  childi-en’s  sake  bore  up  against  the  cur- 
rent ; and  many  a time  disguised  a sad  despairing  heart  un- 
der a joyful  countenance,  till  at  length  she  died  of  a broken 
heart,  or  died  by  the  hands  of  him  Avho  had  SAvorn  to  protect 
her. 

These,  and  things  like  these,  are  the  efiects  of  intoxicat- 
ing liquor — not  casual,  accidental,  but  common,  natural 
efiects,  seen  everpA'here,  in  every  toAAui,  in  every-  neighbor- 
hood, and  in  every  connection.  Look  AA-hich  AA-ay  we  AA-ill, 
Ave  see  some  of  these  efiects.  The  greatest  AATetchedness 
which  human  nature  in  this  Avorld  is  called  to  endure,  is  con- 
irected  with  the  use  of  inebriating  drink.  There  is  notliing 


THE  OX  SERMON. 


5 


else  that  degrades  and  debases  man  like  it — nothing  so  mean 
that  a drunkard  will  not  stoop  to  it — nothing  too  base  for 
him  to  do  to  obtain  his  favorite  drink.  Nothing  else  so  sinks 
the  w^hole  man — so  completely  destroys  not  only  all  moral 
principle,  hut  all  self-respect,  all  regard  to  character,  all 
shame,  all. human  feeling.  The  drunkard  can  break  out 
from  every  kind  of  endearing  connection,  and  break  over  every 
kind  of  restraint ; so  completely  extinct  is  human  feeling, 
that  he  can  be  drunk  at  the  funeral  of  his  dearest  relative, 
and  call  for  drink  in  the  last  accents  of  expiring  nature. 

Now  look  at  a human  being,  whom  God  has  made  for 
noble  purposes,  , and  endowed  with  noble  faculties,  degraded, 
disgraced,  polluted,  unfit  for  heaven,  and  a nuisance  on  earth. 
He  is  the  centre  of  a circle — count  up  his  influence  in  his 
family  and  his  neighborhood — the  wretchedness  he  endures, 
and  the  wretchedness  he  causes — count  up  the  tears  of  a 
wretched  wife  who  curses  the  day  of  her  espousals,  and  of 
wretched  children  who  curse  tluj  day  of  their  birth.  To  all 
this  positive  evil  which  intoxicating  hquor  has  caused,  add 
the  happiness  which  but  for  it  this  family  might  have  en- 
joyed and  communicated.  Go  through  a neighborhood  or  a 
town  in  this  way,  count  up  all  the  misery  which  follows  in 
the  train  of  intoxicating  hquor,  and  you  will  he  ready  to  ask. 
Can  the  regions  of  eternal  death  send  forth  any  thing  more 
deadly  ? Wherever  it  goes,  the  same  cry  may  be  heard — 
lamentation,  and  mourning,  and  woe  ; and  whatever  things 
are  pure,  or  lovely,  or  venerable,  or  of  good  report,  fall  before 
it.  These  are  its  effects.  Can  any  man  deny  that  “ the  ox 
is  wont  to  push  with  his  horn  ?” 

2.  Has  this  been  testified  to  the  owner?  Are  the  makers 
and  venders  aware  of  its  effects  ? The  efiects  are  manifest, 
and  they  have  eyes,  ears,  and  understandings,  as  well  as 
others.  They  know  that  whatever  profit  they  make  is  at 
the  expense  of  human  life  or  comfort ; and  that  the  tide  which 
is  swelled  by  thefr  unhallowed  merchandise  sweeps  ten  thou- 
sand yearly  to  temporal  and  eternal  ruin.  But  this  is  not 
all.  The  attention  of  the  pubhc  has  been  strongly  turned 
to  this  subject.  The  minds  of  men  have  been  enlightened 

Temp.  Vol.  16 


6 


THE  OX  SERMON 


an/l  their  responsibility  pressed  home  upon  them.  The  sub- 
ject has  been  presented  to  them  in  a new  light,  and  men 
cannot  hut  see  the  absurdity  of  reprobating  the  tempted, 
while  the  tempter  is  honored — of  blaming  drunkards,  and 
holding  in  reputation  those  whose  business  it  is  to  make 
drunkards. 

But  are  the  makers  of  intoxicating  liquor  aw'are  of  its 
effects  ? Look  at  the  neighborhood  of  a distiller}^ — an  influ 
ence  goes  forth  from  that  spot  which  reaches  miles  around — 
a kind  of  constraining  influence,  that  brings  in  the  poor,  and 
wretched,  and  thirsty,  and  vicious.  Those  who  have  money 
bring  it — those  who  have  none,  hrmg  corn — those  who  have 
neither,  bring  household  furniture — those  who  have  nothing, 
bring  themselves  and  pay  in  labor.  Now  the  maker  knows 
all  these  men,  and  knows  their  temperament,  and  probably 
Imows  their  families.  He  can  calculate  effects,  and  he  sends 
them  off  one  to  die  by  the  way,  another  to  abuse  his  family, 
and  another  just  ready  for  any  deed  of  wickedness.  Will  he 
say  that  he  is  not  responsible,  and  like  Gain  ask,  “ Am  I my 
brother’s  keeper  ?”  He  knew  what  might  be  the  result,  and 
for  a mere  pittance  of  gain  was  willing  to  risk  it.  Whether 
this  man  should  abuse  his  family,  or  that  man  die  by  the 
way,  so  his  purpose  was  answered,  he  did  not  care.  The  ox 
was  wont  to  push  vdth  his  horn,  and  he  knew  it ; and  for  a 
little  paltry  gam  he  let  him  loose,  and  God  v\dU  support  his 
law  by  holdnig  him  responsible  for  the  consequences. 

But  a common  excuse  is,  that  “ verj"  little  of  our  manu- 
facture is  used  in  the  neighborhood ; we  send  it  ofi'.”  And 
are  its  effects  any  less  deadly  ? In  this  way  you  avoid  seemg 
the  effects,  and  poison  strangers  instead  of  neighbors.  A^Tiat 
would  you  say  to  a man  who  traded  in  clothes  hifected  with 
the  smallpox,  and  who  woifld  say  by  way  of  apologj',  that 
he  sent  them  off — he  did  not  sell  any  in  the  neighborhood  ? 
Good  man ! he  is  willing  to  send  disease  and  death  all  abroad ; 
but  he  is  too  kind-hearted  to  expose  his  neighbors.  Would 
you  not  say  to  him,  you  may  send  them  off,  but  you  can- 
not send  oil’  the  responsibihty  ? The  eye  of  God  goes  vdth 
them,  and  all  the  misery  wliich  they  cause  will  be  charged 


THE  OX  SERMON. 


7 


to  you.  So  we  say  to  the  man  who  sends  oft'  his  intoxicat- 
ing liquor. 

“ But  if  I do  not  make  it  and  traftic  in  it,  somebody  else 
will.”  "What  sin  or  crime  cannot  he  excused  in  this  way  ? 
I know  of  a plot  to  rob  my  neighbor ; if  I do  not  plunder 
him,  somebody  else  will.  Is  it  a privilege  to  hear  the  respon- 
sibility of  sending  abroad  pestilence  and  misery  and  death  ? 
“ Our  cause  is  going  down,”  thought  Judas,  “ and  a price  is 
set  upon  the  head  of  our  Master,  and  if  I do  not  betray  him 
somebody  else  will.  And  why  may  not  I as  well  pocket  the 
money  as  another  ?”  If  you  consider  it  a privilege  to  pocket 
the  wages  of  unrighteousness,  do  so.  But  do  not  pretend  to 
be  the  friend  of  God  or  man  while  you  count  it  a privilege 
to  insult  the  one  and  ruin  the  other  ? 

Says  another,  “ I wish  it  were  banished  from  the  earth. 
But  then  what  can  I do  ?”  What  can  you  do  ? You  can 
keep  one  man  clear  ; you  can  wash  your  own  hands  of  this 
wretched  business.  And  if  you  are  not  willing  to  do  that, 
very  little  reliance  can  be  placed  on  your  good  wishes.  He 
that  is  unjust  in  the  least,  is  unjust  also  in  much.  I can 
hardly  conceive  any  thing  more  inconsistent  with  every  gen- 
erous feeling,  every  noble  principle,  than  the  traffic  in  intoxi- 
cating liquor  at  the  present  day.  The  days  of  ignorance  on 
this  subject  have  passed  by ; every  man  acts  with  his  eyes 
open. 

Look  at  the  shop  and  company  of  the  retailer.  There  he 
stands  in  the  midst  of  dissipation,  surrounded  by  the  most 
degraded  and  filthy  of  human  beings,  in  the  last  stages  of 
earthly  wretchedness.  His  business  is  to  kindle  strife,  to 
encourage  profanity,  to  excite  every  evil  passion,  to  destroy 
all  salutary  fears,  to  remove  every  restraint,  and  to  produce 
a recklessness  that  regards  neither  God  nor  man.  And  how 
often  in  the  providence  of  God  is  he  given  over  to  drink  his 
own  poison,  and  to  become  the  most  wretched  of  this  wretch- 
ed company.  Who  can  behold  an  instance  of  this  kind  with- 
out feeling  that  God  is  just.  “ He  sunk  down  into  the  pit 
which  he  made ; in  the  net  which  he  hid  is  liis  own  foot 
taken.” 


8 


THE  OX  SERMON. 


Another  will  say,  “ I neither  make  nor  traffic  in  it.”  But 
you  drink  it  occasionally,  and  your  example  goes  to  support 
the  use  of  it.  You  see  its  tremendous  effects,  and  yet  you 
receive  it  into  your  house  and  hid  it  God  speed.  As  far  as 
your  influence  supports  it  and  gives  it  currency,  so  far  are 
you  a partaker  of  its  evil  deeds.  If  you  lend  . your  influence 
to  make  the  path  of  ruin  respectable,  or  wiU  not  help  to 
affix  disgrace  to  that  path,  God  will  not  hold  you  guiltless. 
You  caimot  innocently  stand  aside  and  do  nothing. 

A deadly  poison  is  circulating  over  the  land,  caiTjung 
disease  and  desolation  and  death  in  its  course.  The  alarm 
has  been  given.  Its  deadly  efiects  have  been  described,  seen, 
and  felt.  Its  victims  are  of  every  class ; and  however  •wide 
the  difference  in  fortune,  education,  intellect,  it  brings  them 
to  the  same  dead  level.  An  effort  has  been  m^e  to  stay 
the  plague,  and  a success  surpassing  all  expectation  has 
cro'wned  the  effort.  Still,  the  plague  rages  to  an  immense 
extent.  "What  ■will  every  good  citizen  do  ? Will  he  not 
clear  his  house,  his  shop,  his  premises  of  it  ? WiU  he  not 
take  every  precaution  to  defend  himself  against  it,  and  use 
his  influence  and  his  exertions  to  diminish  its  circulation  and 
thus  diminish  hmnan  miserj'  ? If  he  fears  God  or  regards 
man,  can  he  stop  short  of  this  ? Can  he,  in  his  recklessness 
and  selfishness  say,  “ Let  others  take  care  of  themselves — 
I’ll  make  no  promises — I’ll  not  be  bound — I am  in  no  dan- 
ger ?”  If  he  can  speak  and  act  thus,  and  stands  aloof,  and 
continues  to  drink,  is  he  not  guUty,  and  with  the  distiller 
and  vender  accountable  to  God  for  the  perpetuation  of  these 
mighty  e'vUs,  which  but  for  his  cooperation  and  agency  must 
soon  cease  to  exist ? “I  speak  as  mito -^vise  men ; judge  ye 
what  I say.” 


rUBLISHED  Er  THE  AMERICAN  TRACT  SOCIETY. 


PUBLICATIONS 


J 


OF 

THE  AMERICAN  TRACT  SOCIETY. 


D’Aubigne’s  History  of  the  Reformation. 
A new  translation,  revised  by  the  author, 
in  four  volumes  jL2mo,  'with  portraits. 
Price  $1  75,  extra  cloth, 

Baxter’s  Saints’  Everlasting  Rest,  12mo, 
in  large'type  j also  18mo. 

Bunyan’s  Pilgrim’s  Progress,  12mo,  in 
large  type,  and  ISmo.  Both  editions 
neatly  illustrated. 

Memoir  of  Jas.  Milnor,  D.  B. 

Mason’s  Spiritual  Treasupr^  for  every  day 
in  the  year.  Terse,  pithy,  and  evan- 
gelical. 

Flavel’s  Fountain  of  Life,  or  Redemption 
provided. 

Flavel’s  Method  of  Grace,  or  Redemption 
applied  to  the  Souls  of  Men. 

Flavel’s  Knocking  at  the  Boor;  a tender, 
practical  appeal. 

Bishop  Hall’s  Scripture  Historyj^or  Con- 
templations on  the  Historical  Fassages 
of  the  Old  and  New  Testaments. 

Bishop  Hopkins  on  the  Ten  Command- 
ments. Two  standard  works  of  the 
times  of  Baxter. 

President  Edwards’  Thoughts  on  Revi- 
vals. 

Venn’s  Complete  Buty  of  Man. 

Owen  on  Forgiveness,  or  Psalm  130. 

Gregopr’s  (Olinthus,  LL.B.)  Evidences  of 

. Christianity. 

Paley’s  Natural  Theology. 


j Br.  Spring’s  Bible  not  of  Man,  or  the  Argu- 
ment for  the  Bivine  Origin  of  the  Scrip- 

■ tures  drawn  from  the  Scriptures  them- 
selves. 

Nelson’s  Cause  and  Cure  of  Infidelity. 

Merhoir  of  Mrs.  Isabella  Graham.  A new 
and  standard  edition. 

Memoir  of  Mi's.  Sarah  L.  Huntington. 
Smith. 

Sacred  Songs  for  Family  and  Social  Wor- 
ship. Hymns  and  Tunes — ^with  a sepa- 
rate edition  in  patent  notes.  Also,  the 
Hymns  separately. 

Elegant  Narratives,  Select  Tracts,  illus- 
trated. 

Willison’s  Afflicted  Man’s  Companion. 

Boddridge’s  Rise  and  Progress  of  Religion 
in  the  Soul.  .. 

Edwards’ History  of  Redemption. 

Volume  on  Infidelity,  comprising  five 
standard  treatises : 6oame  Jenyns  on 
the  Internal  Evidence ; Leslie’s  Method 
with  Beists ; Lyttelton’s  Conversion  of 
Paul;  Watson’s  Reply  to  Gibbon  and 
Paine. 

Pike’s  Persuasives  to  Early  Piety. 

Pike’s  Guide  to  Young  Bisciples. 

Anecdotes  for  the  Family  and  the  Social 
Circle. 

Universalism  not  of  God. 

Bibble’s  Thoughts  on  Missions. 

The  Bible  True. 


ELEGANT  PRACTICAL  WORKS. 


Wilberforce’s  Practi-cal  View. 
Hannah  More’s  Practical  Piety. 
James’  Anxious  Liquirer. 

Elijah  the  Tishbite. 

Nevins’  Practical  Thoughts. 
Melvill’s  pible  Thoughts,  selected 
late  Rev.  Br.  Milnor. 


by  the 


Harris’  Mammon. 

Gurney’s  Love  to  God. 

Foster’s  Appeal  to  the  Young. 
Abbott’s  Young  Christian. 
Abbott’s  Mother  at  Home. 
Abbott’s  Child  at  Horae. 

James’  Young  Man  from  Home. 


CHRISTTAN  MEMOIRS. 


Rev.  Claudius  Buchanan,  LL.B.,  includ- 
ing his  Christian  Researches  in  Asia. 
Rev.  John  Newton. 

Rev.  Henry  Martyn. 

Rev.  Bavid  Brainerd. 

Rev.  Edward  Pay  son,  B.  B. 

Harriet  L.  Winslow,  Missionary  in  In- 
dia. / 


James  Brainerd  Taylor. 
Harlan  Page. 

Normand  Smith. 
Richard  Baxter. 
Archbishop  Leighton. 
Matthew  Henry. 

Rev.  Samuel  Pearce. 
Rev.  Samuel  Kilpin. 


-OTHER  SPIRITUAL  WORKS. 


Edwards  on  the  Affections. 

Baxter’s  Call  to  the  Unconverted. 
Alleine’s  AJarm  to  the  Unconverted. 
ElavePs  Touchstone. 

Vlavcl  on  Keeping  the  Heart. 
Helffenstein’s  Self-Deception. 

Sherman’s  Guide  to  an  Acq^uaintance 
with  God. 


Pike’s  Religion  and  Eternal  Lile. 
Baxters  Dying' Thoughts. 

Matthew  Henry  on  Meekness. 

Andrew  Fuller’s  Backslider. 

Scudder’s  Redeemer’s  Last  Command. 
Scudder’s  Appeal  to  Mothers. 

Burders  Sermons  to  the  Aged. 


MISCELLANEOUS  WORKS. 


Bogue’s  Evidences  of  Christianity. 
Keith’s  Evidence  of  Prophecy. 
Morison’s  Counsels  to  Young  Men. 
The  Reformation  in  Europe. 

Nevins’  Thoughts  on  Popery. 

Spirit  of  Popery,  [with  12  engravings.] 
The  Colporteur  and  Roman  Catholic. 


Mason  on  Self-Knowledge. 

Sherman’s  Guide  to  an  Acquaintance 
with  God. 

Divine  Law  of  Beneficence. 

ZaccheuSj  or  Scriptural  Plan  of  Benevo- 
lence. 

Hymns  for  Social  Worship. 


POCKET  MANUALS. 


Clarke’s  Scripture  Promises. 

The  Book  of  Psalms. 

The  Book  of  Proverbs. 

Daily  Scripture  Expositor. 

Ten  Commandments  E^lained. 

Bean  and  Venn’s  Advice  to  a Married 
Couple. 

Hymns  for  Infant  Minds. 

Reasons  of  Repose. 


Daily  Food  for  Christians. 

Chaplet  of  Flowers. 

Heavenly  Manna. 

Cecil  and  Flavel’s  Gift  for  Mourners. 
Daily  Texts. 

Diary.  [Daily  Texts  interleaved.] 
Crumbs  from  the  blaster’s  Table, 
blilk  for  Babes. 

Dew-Drops. 


BOOKS  FOR  THE  YOUNG. 

MARTS’  OF  THEM  BEAHTIFTJLLT  ILLUSTRATED  WITH  ENGRAVINGS. 


Gallaudet’s  Scripture  Biography,  7 vols., 
from  Adam  to  David. 

Gallaudet’s  Youth’s  Book  of  Natural  The- 
ology. 

Peep  of  Day. 

Line  upon  Line. 

Precept  upon  Precept. 

Anzonetta  R.  Peters. 

The  Night  of  Toil. 

Legh  Richmond’s  Letters  and  Counsels. 
Advice  to  a Young  Christian. 

Madam  Rumpff  and  Duchess  de  Broglie. 
Charles  H.  Porter. 

^ssionary’s  Daughter. 

Scudder’s  Tales  about  the  Heathen. 
Amelia,  the  Pastor’s  Daughter. 

Trees,  Fruits,  and  Flowers  of  the  Bible, 
[9  cuts.] 

Elizabeth  Bales.  By  John  Angell  James. 
Nathan  W.  Dickerman.  • 

Grace  Harriet. 


Children  Invited  to  Christ. 

Narratives  of  Pious  Children. 

The  Dairyman’s  Daughter,  etc. 

Charles  L.  Winslow. 

Withered  Branch  Revived. 

Peet’s  Scripture  Lessons. 

Child’s  Book  of  Bible  Stories. 

Children  of  the  Bible. 

Amos  Armfield,  or  the  Leather-cov'ered 
Bible. 

The  Child’s  Hymn-Book.  Selected  by 
Miss  Caulkins. 

Scripture  Animals,  [16  cuts.] 

Letters  to  Little  Children,  [13  cute.]- 
Great  Truths  in  Simple  Words. 
Clementine  Cuvier. 

Rolls  Piumbe. 

Pictorial  Tract  Primer. 

Watts’  Divine  and  Moral  Songs. 

With  numerous  similar  works. 


ALSO, 


Dr.  Edwards’  Sabbath  Manual,  Parts  1. 
2,  3,  and  4. 

Dr,  Edwards’  Temperance  Manual. 

In  German — 40  vols.  various  sizes. 

In  French — ^12  volumes. 


In  Welsh — ^Pilgrim’s  Progress,  Baxter  s 
Saints’  Rest  and  Call,  Anxious  Inquirer, 
History  of  Redemption. 

In  Danish — ^Doddridge’s  RiseandProgress, 
Baxter’s  Saints’  Rest  and  Call. 


Also,  upv^rds  of  1,000  Tracts  and  Children’s  Tracts,  separate,  bound,  or  in  packets. 
adapted  for  convenient  sale  by  merchants  and  traders,  many  of  them  with  beautiful 
engravings — in  English,  German,  French,  Spanish,  Portuguese,  Italian,  Dutch, 
Danish,  Swedish,  and  Welsh. 

O;^  It  is  the  design  of  the  Society  to  issue  all  its  publications  in  good  type,  for  the 
poor  as  well  as  the  rich ; and  to  sell  them,  as  nearly  as  may  be,  at  cost,  that  the  Society 
nay  neither  sustain  loss  nor  make  a profit  by  aU  its  sales. 


A512S 


305826 


178.5 

American  Tract  Assoc. 

Select  Temperance  Tracts^ 


:^178.5 


A512S 


305t 26 


University  Libf«t^ 


